Page 83 of Point Proven
“Oren…” Rubbing the back of my neck, I huffed slightly. “That… I know you did it for a reason, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not still hurt by it. I’m… sorry for how I acted in the van. You didn’t deserve it.” Placing my hand on my knee, I squeezed it. “It… It’ll take time for me to fully get over it, but I understand. Out of all of us, Thorne and Liam deserve the apology more than I.”
Oren nodded, his gaze landing on my darling as a couple of tears fell down his cheeks. “I-I’m really sorry, Liam.”
Shaking his head, Liam’s brown eyes lifted. “I’ve already forgiven you, Oren. If it were me, and someone like Stefan had given me a similar ultimatum…” He swallowed as that bout of nausea made a reappearance. “…I-I would’ve done the same thing.”
Wrapping his arms around himself, Oren nodded profusely, biting his lip to stifle his sob. “O-Okay.”
Brushing the wetness on my cheeks away, I pointed to the couch. “Come sit down, buddy. Oh, and matcha man, you too.”
Thorne rolled his eyes, lifting a middle finger in my direction as he trudged into the living room, mug in hand. “You’re lucky we aren’t in the ranks anymore. I’d happily send you on a five-mile jog for that.”
“Only five? Light work. Better than the time you sent?—”
“Says the one who was bitching about climbing eighteen flights of stairs.”
Plopping next to Thorne, Oren pulled a blanket over his legs. “Eighteen? That’s it?”
I scoffed. “Look. My, uh, leg wasn’t calibrated correctly.”
“What hemeansto say,” Thorne started, taking a swig of his elected beverage, “is that he’d just finished cycling and was being a baby back bitch about taking the stairs because he was sore.”
“Wow. Baby back bitch? Clever.” Taking a sip of my drink to hide my smile, I gestured to Liam. “Well, before Thorne ruins my image completely, what did you want to talk about?”
“I, uh…” Liam ran his tongue over his lips, that unmistakable unease rolling forward. “I-I think… I think Stefan may be working under someone.”
His words caught Thorne’s attention as he leaned forward. “Elaborate.”
Before he started talking again, I placed my palm against his thigh, giving him that reassurance we’d grown to rely on. This wouldn’t be easy for him, but I would stay right next to him through it all.
“I mean… I don’t have any proof. But Stefan’s recklessness doesn’t make any sense to me. When he… When I was trapped there…” He focused his attention on my touch before he kept going. “...he didn’t really have streamlined security measures.He left his phone in the room, and that’s how I could contact Simon, but there weren’t any reverse protocols to flag that I’d deleted the call. If I hadn’t blatantly exposed what I did, as well as the fact that you guys were tracking me… He never would’ve known.”
“Interesting.” Thorne traced the rim of his mug with his finger. “I’d have to agree with you. Our infiltration was far too easy, to the point where Matt and Lev even vocalized their concerns. It was like Stefan didn’t care about a potential breach or that the location itself hadn’t mattered to him. But maybe it was merely ego-based, and he isn’t as intelligently sound as we assumed he was.”
Leaning against him, Oren ran his fingers over the blanket. “I, uh, I know who it is. I mean, the higher up.” Blowing out a lengthened exhale, he lifted his gaze. “Her name is Sasika Evania, and she’s… she’s worse than Stefan.”
Thorne craned his head to look at his other half. “How do you know her? What information do you have?”
“The last time I saw her, I was still pretty young, but Dad bent to her demands. She… She’s my half-sister’s mom. Ruthless. Determined. She keeps a tight grip on the organization, but human trafficking is only the start. The compounds aren’t really secure, because she doesn’t care. It’s a ruse for… for thesegames. Mercenaries who fight to the death until a victor stands. General Valens participated in them and won.”
“Games?” I blurted, sitting straighter. “What… What do you mean?”
“It’s like training, but worse. Dad said each trial was different, testing a part of his skills. Well, whatever he mentioned to Sasika.”
“Wait…” Thorne set his mug on the side table as if holding it was far too much of a task with what he was about to share. “During my research into the branches of the black marketand Stefan’s influence, I came across a folder titled ‘Succession Games.’ It didn’t seem inherently important to what we’ve been working to dismantle, but I had a deep-seated feeling I should look into it, just in case. And, well.
“The file's owner coded its contents to flag any attempt at corruption by an outside source, but I combed through the scripting language and found rather basic information. I kept it in case it proved necessary, which it sounds like it might. If Sasika is the lead on this, she set up the organization as a purported training school in Moscow. It has been operating as an under-the-table operation, where families essentially throw their kids into an arena to compete for wealth and titles—just as you said, Oren.”
“That’s… That’s insane,” I breathed.
Liam’s throat bobbed, his swallow audible in the brief wave of silence. “That means this crime ring is far larger than we ever expected.”
“But it makes sense,” Thorne added. “Valens’ ties to the Serbians. The Serbians’ ties to the Russians. All the pieces fit.”
“It does, and that’s why… why I couldn’t say anything.” Oren’s hands trembled. “One wrong move and… and Yeseniya would be tossed in. W-Worse. Killed.”
“How do you know she hasn’t been corrupted?” Liam asked, though his question came as a mere whisper. “If she’s grown up around that level of… wretchedness… how do you know she isn’t like her mother?”
“She’s not!” He blurted, snapping his attention to him as Liam flinched. “I-I mean, sorry, just… just like you called from inside, so does she. Growing up, she despised that place, and still does. She’s been severely abused for her disagreement. My father made her punishment worse once he found out about my love for Thorne. It was leverage, a means to keep mequiet because… because our bond was the only light we had in childhood.
