Page 74 of His Stolen Bride

Mikhail doesn’t look surprised. He looks annoyed that I beat his timing.

“Out,” he says to them.

Luca hesitates. “Boss⁠—”

“Out,” Mikhail repeats, and it lands like a final door closing.

They file out, and Yuri is last, his eyes lingering on me for a second like he’s measuring how dangerous I am to the plan. Then he leaves and shuts the door.

Mikhail waits until the lock clicks, then he looks at me. “What?”

“You’re tightening everything,” I say, and I walk closer, eyes flicking to the map. “So tell me why.”

His jaw flexes. “You need to get the reply done.”

“I will,” I answer. “Tell me why you’re acting like there’s a timer.”

He doesn’t deny it, and that alone confirms it.

He steps toward the desk and picks up a folder, then he sets it down in front of me without opening it. “Read.”

I open it, and I don’t flinch at the surveillance stills, the property documents, the vehicle photos, the timestamps. It’s clean, it’s organized, it’s rushed.

“Seventy-two,” I say quietly.

Mikhail’s gaze stays locked on mine. “That’s the estimate.”

“And you didn’t tell me,” I reply.

“I didn’t want you distracted,” he says.

I laugh once, sharply. “You think I can be distracted right now?”

His eyes narrow. “You think I can be calm right now?”

I close the folder and set it down. “This makes the meeting urgent.”

“Yes,” he says.

“And it makes it more dangerous,” I add.

“Yes,” he repeats, and his voice is tight.

I step closer, and I keep my voice controlled. “We don’t rush the meeting. We tighten the perimeter and we adjust the bait.”

Mikhail’s mouth tightens. “You’re the bait.”

“I’m the choice,” I correct. “He wants consent on record. He wants to hear me say it.”

“And he’ll try to use that to pull you,” Mikhail says.

“Not if I control the room,” I answer. “Not if I control the words.”

He watches me for a long beat. “You’re not afraid.”

“I’m afraid,” I say, and I don’t soften it. “I’m not panicking.”

His eyes flick down my face, then back up. “That’s new.”