Viktor reached for his holster, but Olive was faster. She didn't go for a gun; she went for the heavy crystal decanter on the desk, smashing it against the terminal to create a short circuit and a distraction. In the ensuing sparks and darkness, she dove for the hidden service staircase she had mapped out months ago.
She wasn’t just a secretary; she was a genius with numbers. For months, she had been skimming small, untraceable amounts from the Bratva’s shipping accounts, funneling them into a clean offshore fund. But tonight, she needed more than money. She needed the Kolyma Files —the encrypted list of every corrupt official on the Volkov payroll. It was her only insurance policy. If she had those names, the Bratva could never touch her without risking total annihilation. The Betrayal
She froze. Viktor was leaning against the doorframe, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He didn’t look angry; he looked disappointed. Traicionando a la Bratva - Olive Clarke.epub
Olive Clarke was a ghost in her own life. As the daughter of a disgraced British diplomat, she had been "sold" to the Volkov Bratva to settle her father’s gambling debts. For three years, she lived in a mansion on the outskirts of Saint Petersburg, serving as the personal assistant—and captive—of Viktor Volkov, the youngest and most volatile heir to the syndicate.
Viktor was a man of cold marble and sharp edges. He treated Olive like a prized possession: kept in silk dresses, but never allowed to step past the iron gates without an armed escort. To the world, she was his companion. To Olive, she was a prisoner waiting for the right moment to strike. The Opportunity Viktor reached for his holster, but Olive was faster
"I gave you everything," he said, walking toward her. "Protection. Luxury. My trust."
While Viktor was busy toasted to "family and loyalty," Olive slipped into his private study. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She plugged the drive into his terminal, the progress bar crawling with agonizing slowness. "You always did have a penchant for the forbidden, Olive." She wasn’t just a secretary; she was a genius with numbers
"You gave me a cage, Viktor," Olive spat, her voice trembling but firm. "I’m just taking back the years you stole." The Escape