Again.
First, we have a party to save and a corporate reputation to defend.
23
TARTAN UP A STORM
KARINA
The August twilight casts a golden glow across Connor and Ariana's engagement party as I step through the grand entrance of the Harborview Hotel.
Crystal chandeliers throw diamond-like reflections across the marble floor, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcase Seattle's skyline against a perfect sunset.
The air smells of expensive perfume, champagne, and undisguised ambition—the signature scent of tech industry networking.
Two hours into the party, and I've managed not to ruin anything.
Yet.
But I’ve managed to help out quite a bit.
The bagpipes have been banished, the kilted teddy bears incinerated, and the replacement cocktails (respectfully named "Highland Reserve" and "Heather Bloom") are flowing.
Callum has been masterfully working the room, his natural authority drawing investors like moths to an exceptionally wealthy flame.
I'm just starting to relax when I spot Luke Sterling moving purposefully toward me through the crowd, expression grave.
My stomach drops as I remember Viktoria's warning…
Luke has been investigating my background.
"Karina," he says without a proper greeting, "we need to talk."
"Can it wait?I'm coordinating with the staff about dessert timing."I gesture toward the catering team, who definitely aren't expecting me.
"It's waited long enough."He guides me to a relatively quiet alcove, his voice low but firm."I've completed background checks on all key personnel associated with the MacTavish acquisition."
"How thorough," I say, aiming for casual but landing somewhere near panic.
Luke adjusts his glasses, a gesture I've learned means he's uncomfortable with what he's about to say."Your credentials don't match your employment history."
The world narrows to his face and the pounding of my heart."Luke?—"
"There's no record of you at Drake Communications during the years you claimed.Your master's thesis doesn't exist in any university database.Your digital footprint has been artificially created—rather expertly, I might add."
"I can explain," I begin, but a commotion at the entrance cuts me off.
Duncan MacTavish has arrived, resplendent in a formal kilt outfit that makes several nearby women audibly gasp.
He scans the room with predatory precision until his gaze locks onto me.
The smile that spreads across his face chills me to the bone.
"Ms.Peters!"he calls loudly, crossing the room with alarming speed for a man his age."Just the woman I wanted to see."
Luke gives me a grim look."You should have told Callum yourself."
Before I can reply, Duncan reaches us, clapping Luke on the shoulder."Sterling!Good to see you.Mind if I borrow Ms.Peters for a moment?"
