Chapter 9 - One Step From Leaving
Six weeks after Misha first entered my emergency room, I stood inside Vadim’s office.
Exactly where this story began.
The expensive lights.
The mahogany desk.
The skyline beyond the windows.
Vadim had been temporarily released into federal cooperation after the evidence on the drive began producing arrests.
But nobody knew whether Irina understood that.
We needed her to believe Vadim and I had turned against each other.
So we gave her a show.
“You’re leaving tonight,” Vadim said.
Cameras hidden throughout the office recorded everything.
I grabbed my coat.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”
“Tell me what you heard.”
I turned toward the door.
He came around the desk.
“Every word.”
I reached for the handle.
He caught my arm and pulled me back.
Not violently.
But convincingly enough for whoever was watching.
“And Reese,” he said, his voice cold, “don’t make me ask twice.”
I slapped him.
That part had not been rehearsed.
His eyes widened.
“Sell it,” I whispered.
“I think you enjoyed that.”
“A little.”
Then I raised my voice.
“I heard your mother say she wants the drive!”
Vadim froze theatrically.
“What?”
“She contacted me. She offered me money.”
“Where?”
“O’Hare. Midnight.”
I pulled free.
“I’m done with all of you.”
Then I walked out.
The bait was set.
At 11:52 p.m., I entered a private hangar near O’Hare carrying a copy of the drive.
Federal agents watched from outside.
Nikolai had tactical teams positioned nearby.
Vadim had been ordered to remain away.
Which meant I knew with absolute certainty he was somewhere close.
Irina Sorokin arrived at midnight.
She was smaller than I expected.
Elegant.
Calm.
She looked like someone’s wealthy grandmother.
Not a woman who had ordered the death of a five-year-old.
“Reese.”
“You know me.”
“I knew your father.”
“You had him killed.”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Peter killed Daniel.”
“You ordered Peter.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Daniel discovered what Peter was doing. I tried to help him escape.”
I did not believe her.
Then she gave me something.
A letter.
My father’s handwriting.
Irina,
If anything happens, protect Reese.
I stared at it.
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No. I expect you to check the handwriting.”
“What do you want?”
“The original drive.”
“Why?”
“Because there is one file nobody has opened.”
“What file?”
“The beneficiary list.”
Irina stepped closer.
“Your father discovered Viktor wasn’t the true owner of the network. Neither was Peter.”
“Who was?”
“A consortium.”
Politicians.
Executives.
Judges.
Law enforcement.
Men who had used the Sorokin organization as a private machine for decades.
“And you?”
“I spent fifteen years collecting evidence.”
“You threatened Cleo.”
Her expression changed.
“No.”
I showed her the recording.
For the first time, Irina looked genuinely shocked.
“That isn’t me.”
My stomach dropped.
Deepfake.
Voice reconstruction.
Someone had manufactured it.
Then gunfire erupted outside.
The lights died.
Irina grabbed me.
“Down!”
The hangar doors exploded inward.
Men entered.
Not Irina’s.
Not Vadim’s.
Federal tactical gear.
Samuel Greene walked between them.
The supposedly exposed official.
The man who should have been hiding.
He smiled.
“Thank you for gathering everyone.”
Irina whispered, “Run.”
Greene shot her.
I screamed.
Then chaos swallowed the hangar.
Vadim appeared from behind a vehicle.
Of course he had ignored orders.
He fired toward Greene’s men.
Nikolai entered from the opposite side.
Federal agents loyal to the investigation stormed through the hangar doors.
I crawled toward Irina.
She was alive.
Barely.
Greene grabbed me from behind.
His gun pressed beneath my jaw.
“Tell Sorokin to drop it.”
Vadim froze.
“Let her go.”
Greene laughed.
“You men really are predictable around women.”
Vadim lowered his weapon.
I looked at him.
He looked back.
Then his eyes moved downward.
My hand was near Greene’s wrist.
Vadim knew what I was about to do.
He shook his head once.
I did it anyway.
I drove my elbow backward.
Greene’s gun shifted.
Vadim moved.
One shot.
Greene fell.
I ran toward Vadim.
He caught me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I punched his chest.
He winced.
“Bullet wound.”
“You were supposed to stay away.”
“You were held at gunpoint.”
“The plan worked.”
“That was not part of the plan.”
Behind us, Irina whispered Vadim’s name.
He went still.
His mother was bleeding on the concrete.
Vadim approached slowly.
Irina looked up at both sons.
“I’m sorry.”
Nikolai’s expression was hard.
“For which part?”
“For leaving you with him.”
Viktor.
Tears entered her eyes.
“I thought distance would protect you.”
Vadim crouched.
“It didn’t.”
“I know.”
She reached for his hand.
He hesitated.
Then took it.
Irina survived.
So did the evidence.
And by sunrise, Samuel Greene’s arrest records and files had opened an investigation far larger than anything Peter had feared.
But when I returned to Vadim’s mansion the following evening, I found a suitcase waiting beside the door.
Mine.
Vadim stood beside it.
I stared at him.
“You packed my things?”
“Yes.”
“You have exactly five seconds to explain before I reopen your bullet wound.”
He almost smiled.
“You and Cleo are free.”
My anger disappeared.
“What?”
“No guards. No debts. No obligations.”
He handed me documents.
Cleo’s medical account.
My apartment lease.
My car.
Everything in my name.
Nothing owed to him.
“You wanted your life back,” he said.
“So I’m giving it back.”
I looked at the suitcase.
“And what if I don’t want to leave?”
May you like
Vadim’s expression broke.
That possibility had apparently never occurred to him.
