Page 14 of Fake Marriage Mafia Triplets

The lot list turns four years of theft into something deliberate. Rahil has been buying Mama’s belongings one lot at a time while I rotated through safe houses eating cold food in other people’s kitchens, and he’s been showing them to clients who don’t know her name.

Piper sold pieces from Mama’s collection in eleven separate sales over three months, and I called it a breach. Rahil has been buying Mama’s belongings for four years and calling it acquisition.

“Which five pieces?” I ask.

Platon reads them off. “A card holder, two lighters, a small tray, and a matchbox stand, all silver and all carrying Izabelle’s inventory number.”

The brooch was a wedding gift from my grandmother. Mama wore it to Angelina’s christening and to every funeral after, and when she stopped wearing jewelry entirely in her last year, she kept it in the drawer of the piano bench because she liked knowing where it was.

I make myself ride it out and focus on everything useful.

“You’ve stopped blinking,” Platon says.

“I blink at a perfectly normal rate.”

“You’ve stopped.” He turns his chair to face me. “Which brings me to the part of this conversation you’re going to like even less.”

“Then you should say it quickly.”

“Whatever happened between you and Piper Voss last night makes containment harder, not easier.”

I don’t answer. He’s earned the right to say it, and denying it would waste time we don’t have.

“I’m not judging you.” Platon leans forward with his forearms on his knees, and he lets his voice drop. “I’ve watched you keep everyone at a distance for four years. She looks at you like you’re a problem she hasn’t solved yet, and I understand the appeal. You also need to hear the operational reality, because you’re the only person in this house who can’t see it.”

“You should say it.”

“If Shilov uses her to draw you out, you’ll hesitate where you wouldn’t have hesitated yesterday. You’ll adjust the plan around keeping her alive, and Rahil only needs one adjustment he can predict.” He holds my stare. “Yesterday she was leverage because of the forged filing. Today, she’s leverage because you care what happens to her, and she has no idea how much that changes your decisions.”

The worst part of Platon’s competence is that he’s usually right before I am. “I hear you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the answer you’re getting at six in the morning.”

He accepts that, which is its own kind of loyalty, and turns back to the monitors.

I read the spread of documents on the table and force the pieces into a shape. Piper’s forged wife filing sits at the center. The sold Rusakov items radiate out from it toward Gideon, Vogt, and Rahil. Callum’s debt runs underneath it through two intermediaries into Shilov’s money chain. Adrian’s verification notice arrived within hours of the crest photographs surfacing.

Four pressure points, and every one of them applies force in the same direction. Somebody is squeezing.

Platon’s phone rings at six-fifteen. He checks the screen and turns it toward me. Adrian is calling.

I nod, and Platon puts him on speaker.

“Platon, I’ve been on with the estate-service firm since five.” Adrian sounds like he hasn’t slept and wants credit for it. “They’re refusing to release or authenticate any further inventory until the surviving spouse appears in person. They want her at the Water Mill property, they want photo identification, and they want a signed affidavit regarding the marriage timeline.”

“When do they want her?” I ask.

“Nikita.” He pauses, brief and professional, and recovers. “I didn’t realize you were on the call. They’re still demanding an appearance ASAP. I may be able to hold them until tomorrow morning, but no longer. I’ve been trying to slow them down since they first flagged the irregular access in early April, but the crest inquiry accelerated everything.”

Platon stops typing.

He mentions an anomaly report from early April, filed and closed months before the crest photographs surfaced this week. He catches the date himself and explains it before I ask.

“Routine flagging,” Adrian says. “The service firm logs unusual access patterns automatically, and I clear a dozen a quarter across the trust properties. That one didn’t warrant escalation until the buyer inquiry gave it context this week.” His tone stays level. “I’ll send the affidavit requirements this afternoon. I’d advise against having her sign anything until I’ve reviewed the language. If the marriage timeline collapses under scrutiny, the exposure runs through every transaction I’ve processed since your death was declared.”

He ends the call without even a goodbye.