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Sasha was not in the lounge. That, coupled with the conversation he just had with Kaela made him more pissed.

Kaela had spoken of him avoiding her when she didn't know the discomfort it brought to him. She had no idea what being near her did to him; staying away was better for him. Last night had been a slip, and now she was back with her entitlement issues.

Dante adjusted his cuffs, irritated. How would he find Sasha in this large place? Just then his phone vibrated, and he took it out to see a text from Sasha: the coordinates of the private suite she was in.

That bitch could have sent this to him earlier. She was quite bold for someone who had no real power, he concluded, walking up to the receptionist. Why the hell was she even here? They were here to talk, not fuck.

The hallway leading to the suite was dimly lit. A perfect place for a setup, but he wasn't concerned. He had his gun in his suit, ready to pull out in case anyone popped up unexpectedly. Besides, if Sasha tried anything, she'd regret it before she even got a word out.

Sasha was draped across the velvet couch, legs crossed, when he stepped in, a glass of red wine in her hand. The low lighting cast a golden sheen on her skin.

"Well, well. Took you long enough," she said, smiling.

Dante shut the door behind him. "I normally do not agree to meetings like this, especially one where you tell me your real location like it's an afterthought."

Sasha chuckled, taking a slow sip of her wine. "Relax, Dante darling. I have something you'll want to hear."

Dante folded his arms, his dark gaze cutting through her. "And I'm guessing it's something too delicate to be said over the phone?"

When she nodded, he sighed. "This better be worth my time."

Sasha set her glass down and slid a folded paper across the table. "I didn't just get you the evidence that Caius wants to use against you. There's someone in his inner circle who is ready to betray him."

She pointed at the man in the printed picture on one of the sheets of paper. It was the same picture she had sent him the first day of her assignment. Dante narrowed his eyes, staring at the picture of Desmond Jackson. The Englishman had been a rather passive member of Petrova's gang. However, Dante had had his fair share of encounters with him.

The man was closed off and not necessarily violent. Dante wondered if that attitude of his meant that he had a lot of information in mind. If this was real and he was actually willing to betray Petrova, then this was the biggest advantage he would have.

"Do you expect me to believe this?" Dante asked coldly. If it was just speculation, well, he couldn't waste his time chasing loose ends.

"I expect you to act fast before you lose this opportunity," Sasha said, leaning forward. "If you're going to go around doubting whatever information I bring to you, then why am I working for you in the first place?"

"I will contact him then," Dante said, already thinking through different means he could use to speak to the man.

"Oh, that's not necessary," Sasha said, waving a hand. "I already told him that I arranged the meeting with you. He'll be here soon enough."

"Are you sure it's safe to let him know where you are?" Dante asked, crossing his arms, looking at the door like it was a ticking time bomb.

"I have reason to trust him," she replied. "He is the one who helped me get my hands on this evidence I have to bring to you."

Dante raised an eyebrow. It seemed Desmond was actually serious about betraying Petrova. "Not bad," he said. "So, do I get to see the evidence?"

She held up a small stack of documents. "In these documents are proofs of fraudulent business practices, money laundering through shell companies, and sworn testimony from one of your former associates about how you ordered hits on rival businesses."

"How the hell did he get his hands on all that?" Dante demanded, snatching it from her. He flipped through it quickly, and his eyes widened as he realized that she was telling the truth. There was evidence in here to land him in prison for a lifetime.

Sasha shrugged. "I guess he had his means, and I have mine." She stretched forth her hand. "May I have it now?"

"What do you want to do with it?" Dante asked.

"You have to trust me. I'm risking my life for you."

"And let's not forget I am paying you. It's not like you're doing me a favor," Dante rolled his eyes and handed it over to her.

She pulled out a lighter and flicked it on. "How about we make sure that this evidence never lands in the right place?" She set the documents on the floor and held the lighter to it.

Flames licked the edge of the paper, curling them back as tendrils of smoke tainted the air.

"Stealing this was really risky," Dante said when most of the documents were charred.

Sasha smirked at him. "Do I get a thank you?"