Ghost (Boston Underworld #3) - A. Zavarelli Page 0,81

go to the control room,” he tells me. “We will check the security cameras.”

I’m walking with him, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

“Nobody is allowed to leave this building,” Viktor tells Nikolai before he shuts the door.

He waits while I go through the footage myself. But there is nothing. I cannot see anyone touch the computer from the time I installed the flash drive, no matter how many times I go back over it.

And then Viktor asks the question that is already at the back of my mind.

“Did you bring this flash drive from home?”

“She does not have access to these files,” I tell him. “And she has no reason to do this.”

“Are you certain of that?” he asks.

I nod.

But inwardly, I am questioning it. Doubting her. It would not be the first time I have misjudged someone so wrongly.

“Those photos are from her time as a slave,” Viktor notes. “Most likely Arman’s own security system. Perhaps we should start with him.”

“Yes, perhaps,” I agree.

“The only problem,” he amends, “is that Arman has never been in your house.”

His truth is too difficult to acknowledge. I’m still not willing to accept it myself. So I retrieve the hard drive from the computer. Setting out to prove him wrong.

Viktor is silent while I work. Contemplative.

There is no evidence the computer has been tampered with. And the flash drive is one of my own. Only, it does not contain the information I transferred this morning.

When Viktor sees the realization on my face, he grips my shoulder in a show of support.

“Perhaps her relationship with Arman was not as it seemed,” he states. “There is no way you could have known, Lyoshenka.”

I want to defend her. To argue that he is wrong. But there is no evidence to support that statement. And I know what comes next.

“You must face your Vory brothers,” Viktor tells me. “You always knew it might come to this.”

“I did,” I acknowledge.

Keeping my defect from them was a risk I was willing to take. Now that I am exposed, I will pay the consequences of my lie.

“Come,” Viktor says. “Let’s get it over with. So you can go home.”

* * *

The men are waiting for us in the basement. Solemn and drinking quietly amongst themselves. It is not the same atmosphere as when I arrived. They, too, know what must be done. As a high ranking Vor, keeping a secret like this from them is considered a betrayal. And punishment must be doled out. If they do not give it, they themselves appear weak.

I strip my shirt over my head and toss it aside, gladly taking the drink that Viktor hands me next. There is not a word spoken in the room. When the drink is finished, I turn to Viktor. And as with everything else we do, he is the first to perform the honor of punching me in the gut.

He does not hold back. The pakhan must never show weakness. And his punch nearly doubles me over. But I take another drink, and then each of the men take a turn. Punching my face. My chest. My back. Even Sergei. Which is the worst of them all.

He takes pleasure in it. And he gets me twice.

When the ritual is finished, Viktor calls a Boyevik over to add a fresh tattoo to my body. One that means I have betrayed them, but have earned my way back in with honor.

There is no honor though. Lying on the floor, bloodied and exposed for all of the Vory to see me for what I am.

The rage is building inside of me. The rationalizing no longer valid. There is only one explanation. One person that I have brought into my home. That I trusted. And she was the only one who could have done this.

“Lyoshenka.” Viktor kneels down in front of me, squeezing my shoulder. “Franco is waiting outside. Time for you to go home.”

I sit up and meet his gaze, as well as the rest of the men in the room around me. The men who respected me. Who trusted my judgment and my abilities.

Now, they hold questions in their eyes.

“Go,” Viktor says again. “Take the footage with you, if you’d like. I will continue to do what I can on my end.”

I have gone through the footage on my security system from last night and this morning. But I cannot find the proof I need. I cannot find the evidence of her betrayal. It should bring me relief. But it does