“What stopped you?” he asks.
I swallow. “My brother. They showed me what happens to him if I don’t cooperate.”
His eyes darken, not with sympathy.
“You’re afraid,” he says.
I hold his gaze. “Yes.”
“You don’t try to hide it,” he notes.
“I don’t think I could,” I say. My voice wobbles. “And you’d see through it anyway.”
His attention focuses. He steps out from behind the desk and walks toward me with a calm stride that makes my heart pound harder. He stops just close enough that I have to tilt my head back to keep looking at him.
He switches languages again so smoothly it makes my skin prickle.
“You thought I was a primitive man.” His English is even better than his German.
Shit.
My mouth opens, but all that comes out is, “I didn’t—”
His eyebrow lifts slightly.
I shut my mouth again.
“You didn’t expect this,” he says. “The languages. The fact that I know everything that matters about you.”
Ice slides down my spine. “Everything?”
“Six years in Basel,” he says easily. “Toxicology doctorate. Research focus on stabilization of synthetic opioid derivatives. The stipend you sent home every month. The money to Mishka’s school. Your father’s gambling. Your mother’s work before she died. Your papers under her maiden name.”
He lists my life like he’s reading a grocery inventory. My chest feels too tight.
“You studied me,” I whisper.
“Of course,” he says. “I don’t make deals blind.”
Deals. That’s one word for it.
My vision blurs at the edges for a second. The room feels smaller. I drag in air but it doesn’t feel like enough. The buzzing in my ears gets louder.
He sees it before I do.
“Look at me,” he says.
I didn’t even realize my gaze had dropped, but I force it back up. My knees soften.
He moves forward and his hands close around my upper arms, steady and firm, catching me before I go down.
“Breathe,” he says quietly. “Here. With me.”
The warmth of his grip cuts through the ice in my veins. I pull in a breath, shaky and shallow, then another. My heart is going way too fast. I can feel it banging against my ribs.
“You’re not going to fall,” he commands me. “You can stand.”
“I don’t feel like I can,” I whisper.
