42. Emma
EMMA
I lean back in my chair, staring at the email that just arrived in my inbox. The words blur slightly as exhaustion pulls at my eyes, but I force myself to read Hayes’s response one more time.
Agent Moore,
I was blocked from accessing auction financial data by direct order from Langford’s office three weeks before your operation.
The denial came through official channels with classification restrictions I couldn’t override.
When I questioned the decision, I was told the information was part of a separate ongoing investigation and access was limited to essential personnel only.
I should have pushed harder. I’m sorry.
Hayes
My hands tremble slightly as I grip the edge of the desk.
This is it. The final piece of evidence I’ve been searching for.
Hayes tried to investigate the auction network properly and Langford shut him down.
Not because there was another investigation.
Not because of classification protocols.
But because Langford was protecting the very network I was trying to dismantle.
The betrayal cuts deeper than I expected, even though I’ve known the truth for days now.
Seeing it confirmed in black and white makes it real in a way that photographs and financial records couldn’t.
Langford didn’t just sell me out. He actively sabotaged anyone who might have uncovered what he was doing.
“How did you get around the security restrictions?”
The voice behind me makes me jump so hard I nearly knock over my coffee cup.
I spin in my chair to find Rurik standing in the doorway, his pale blue eyes locked on the laptop screen.
I hadn’t heard him enter. Hadn’t sensed his presence at all, which is terrifying considering how aware I usually am of my surroundings.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I try to calm my breathing. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Answer the question.” His voice is flat, controlled, but I hear the anger underneath. “We put restrictions on outgoing communications for a reason. How did you bypass them?”
“Artur gave me access. With Eduard’s permission.”
Rurik’s jaw tightens, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. For a long moment he just stares at me, and I can see the fury building behind those cold eyes. He’s pissed. Not just at me, but at Artur and Eduard for going behind his back.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he says finally, his tone making it clear the discussion won’t be pleasant.
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with my racing heart and the damning email still glowing on the screen.
I close the laptop with shaking hands and press my palms against my eyes. Everything is falling apart. The investigation, the fragile trust I’ve built with the three men, and the illusion that I could somehow navigate this situation without consequences.
Krystal’s warning echoes in my mind. They’re only using you. Men like that don’t fall in love.
But they said they cared about me. They said it was real. And I believed them because I wanted to. Because the alternative was too painful to accept.
I desperately want to believe they care about me as a person and not just an asset.
They act like they care. They say the right words.
Surely they aren’t that good of actors. Grabbing my coffee cup, I take it to the kitchen then make my way to the dining room where Rurik, Eduard, and Artur are waiting.
Dinner is tense. Krystal chose to stay in her room, claiming she wasn’t feeling well, which leaves me alone with my guys in the smaller dining room. The food is excellent as always, but I can barely taste it. My stomach is in knots and every bite feels like swallowing stones.
Eduard and Artur exchange glances across the table, clearly aware that Rurik is furious about something. But neither of them asks. They just eat in silence, waiting for whatever storm is coming.
I set down my fork with more force than necessary, the clatter breaking the oppressive quiet. “I need to tell you something.”
All three sets of eyes turn to me immediately. “The mole,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “The person who sold me out. It was Langford. I’m finally convinced,” Damn, I sound defeated. Fragile even.
The admission hangs in the air between us. I watch their expressions shift as they process what I’ve said. Eduard’s jaw tightens. Artur’s crooked grin vanishes completely. Rurik just nods once, like he’s been expecting this.
They’d been telling me this for a while, but I had refused to believe it.
“You’re certain?” Eduard asks quietly.
“Yes.” I pull out my phone and show them the email from Hayes then navigate to the documents I’ve compiled over the past few days.
“Langford personally signed the order declaring me ‘compromised due to rogue action.’ Only someone at his clearance level could override Cole’s login trail, suppress Hayes’s objections, and close my case that fast.”
I explain everything I’ve found. The financial connections through his brother-in-law’s security firm.
The supervisory override that accessed my files.
The meeting with Volkov captured in that damning photograph.
The pattern of decisions that protected the auction network while destroying anyone who got too close to the truth.
By the time I finish, my throat is tight and my hands are shaking. Saying it all out loud makes it real in a way that hurts even more than I thought it would.
Rurik sets down his glass with deliberate care. He’s still tense, but his anger of before is gone and replaced by a new fury. “We can take care of him for you.”
The words are simple, direct, and absolutely terrifying. I know exactly what he means. They’ll kill Langford. Make it look like an accident or a robbery gone wrong. Eliminate the threat permanently.
Horror floods through me, cold and sharp. “No.”
Artur leans forward, his dark eyes serious. “Emma, he tried to have you killed. He sold you to a fucking auction. He doesn’t deserve to breathe.”
“I know what he did.” My voice rises despite my effort to stay calm. “I know he’s a bastard who deserves to rot in hell. But I don’t want him dead.”
Eduard’s hand finds mine across the table, his fingers warm and steady. “Then what do you want?”
I take a breath, forcing myself to think like an agent instead of a victim. “I want him punished. I want him to confess. I want everyone to know what he did and why.”
“A confession won’t bring him down,” Rurik says flatly. “Men like Langford have too many connections. Too much protection. Even if you get him to admit everything, he’ll find a way to spin it or disappear before charges stick.”
“Then we make sure he can’t spin it.” I pull my hand free from Eduard’s and stand, pacing the length of the dining room. “We set a trap. Something he can’t walk away from.”
Artur’s lips curve into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “What kind of trap?”
My mind races through possibilities and strategies I’ve used in undercover operations. “We make him think I’m still useful to him. That I have information he needs. Something valuable enough that he’ll risk meeting with me personally.”
“He’ll suspect it’s a setup,” Eduard points out.
“Maybe.” I stop pacing and turn to face them. “But Langford is arrogant. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. If we dangle the right bait, he’ll convince himself he can control the situation.”
Rurik stands and moves to the window, his broad shoulders blocking the evening light. “What kind of bait?”
“Evidence that I’ve uncovered connections between the auction network and federal defense contracts.” I’m making this up as I go, but the pieces are falling into place. “Something big enough that he’ll want to contain it personally instead of sending someone else.”
“And when he shows up?” Artur asks.
“We record everything. Get him to admit what he did and why. Then we release it to every media outlet and law enforcement agency simultaneously. Make it impossible for him to bury.”
The three men exchange glances, that silent communication I’ve come to recognize. They’re weighing the risks, considering angles I haven’t thought of yet.
“It’s dangerous,” Eduard says finally. “If Langford suspects you’re setting him up, he’ll come prepared. Armed backup, contingency plans, maybe even a kill order.”
“I know.” My chest tightens, but I force myself to stay steady. “But it’s the only way to make sure he actually pays for what he’s done.”
Rurik turns from the window, his pale blue eyes locked on mine. “We’ll need time to plan this properly.”
“How long?” I ask.
“A week. Maybe less if we move fast.”
Relief floods through me, warm and unexpected. They’re going to help me. Despite the danger and complications, they’re going to help me bring down the man who destroyed my life.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Artur stands and moves closer, his hand finding my waist. “Don’t thank us yet, sweetheart. This could still go to hell.”
Eduard joins us, his gray eyes warm despite the seriousness of the conversation. “We’ll make it work. We’ll get you the confession you need.”
I lean into their warmth, taking comfort in their presence. For the first time in weeks, I feel like maybe, just maybe, this nightmare has an end.
Rurik’s phone vibrates against the table, the sound sharp in the quiet room. He picks it up, his expression shifting from calm to cold fury in the space of a heartbeat.
“What is it?” Eduard asks immediately.
Rurik’s jaw tightens as he reads the message, his knuckles going white around the phone. When he looks up, his pale blue eyes are ice.
“Volkov just made his move,” he says, his voice deadly quiet. “He’s put a hit out on Emma and Krystal.”