Sasha and I exchange a glance that’s entirely for show. We expected this, planned for it, made sure we had nothing to find.
The search is thorough. The woman checks every pocket, every seam, every possible hiding spot for electronics or weapons. She runs a handheld scanner over our clothes and has us remove our shoes for inspection. When she’s satisfied, she gestures toward the door.
“Follow me. Mr. Belmont is waiting in the study.”
The interior of Thornfield Manor matches the exterior. High ceilings, antique furniture, and oil paintings in gilded frames.Adrian’s taste runs toward opulence, and he’s spared no expense making sure visitors understand exactly how wealthy and powerful he considers himself.
We pass through a marble foyer, down a wood-paneled hallway, and stop before a set of heavy oak doors. The woman knocks twice, waits for a muffled response, then pushes them open.
The study beyond is exactly the kind of stage Adrian would choose for this confrontation.
Massive bookshelves line the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that probably cost more than most cars. A massive stone fireplace dominates one end of the room, and above it is a portrait of Adrian himself, looking every inch the cultured gentleman he pretends to be.
Three chairs have been arranged in the center of the space. Two face the third, which sits slightly elevated on a small platform. The message is obvious. Adrian intends to hold court, with Sasha and me as his supplicants.
Guards flank every exit. I count six in the study alone, plus the woman who escorted us. That’s seven armed professionals between us and any possible escape route.
Adrian rises from behind an antique desk as we enter, and I’m struck again by how much he’s deteriorated since our first meeting. But his smile is bright and eager as he spreads his arms in welcome.
“Tony. And the lovely Sasha.” He moves toward us with the energy of a man who’s been waiting years for this moment. “I’m so pleased you could join me this evening.”
Sasha goes stiff beside me, playing her part flawlessly. “Tony, what is this? I thought we were meeting one of your colleagues.”
Adrian’s smile widens. “Oh, but you are, my dear. Tony and I go back quite a ways, don’t we, Tony?”
I keep my face neutral. “Adrian.”
“Please, sit.” Adrian gestures toward the two lower chairs. “We have so much to discuss.”
I guide Sasha toward the chairs with a hand on her lower back, feeling the subtle tremor she’s manufactured for Adrian’s benefit. She’s selling the confusion and unease beautifully. Anyone watching would believe she has no idea what’s happening.
Adrian settles into his elevated seat and crosses his legs, the picture of a man completely in control of his domain. “I imagine you have questions, Sasha. I’m happy to provide answers. In fact, that’s precisely why I arranged this little gathering.”
“I don’t understand.” Sasha’s voice wavers perfectly. “Tony, what is he talking about?”
Adrian holds up a hand before I can respond. “Allow me. You see, Sasha, your friend Tony isn’t quite who he claims to be. He’s not a journalist, though he does have a talent for cover stories. He’s a former CIA operative with a very particular set of skills. Skills I hired him to use against your family.”
Sasha turns to look at me, and the betrayal in her eyes is so convincing that for a moment even I almost believe it. “What?”
“Several months ago, I offered Tony a substantial sum to infiltrate the Kozlov organization,” Adrian continues, clearly relishing every word. “His mission was simple. Get close toyou. Earn your trust. Gather intelligence about your brothers’ operations. And when the time was right, deliver you to me.”
“That’s not…” Sasha shakes her head, and her voice breaks. “Tony, tell me he’s lying.”
I say nothing. That’s what Adrian expects from me. Guilty silence. The confession of a man caught in his own deception.
Adrian leans forward in his chair, drinking in Sasha’s reaction like fine wine. “I chose Tony specifically because of he knows how to make people trust him. How to become whatever his target needs him to be. And you needed a hero, didn’t you, Sasha? Someone to save you from the gallery attack. Someone to protect you from the big bad world without having to ask your brothers for help.”
“The gallery attack.” Sasha’s hand flies to her mouth. “That was you?”
“A necessary piece of theater. Tony needed an opportunity to play the hero, and I needed to see how he performed under pressure.” Adrian shrugs as if orchestrating armed robbery is a minor inconvenience. “He exceeded my expectations. Within days, you were looking at him like he hung the moon.”
Sasha’s breathing has grown ragged, and tears brim in her eyes. I know they’re fake, that she’s giving Adrian exactly what he wants, but watching her perform devastation still makes something twist in my chest.
“Everything was a lie?” she whispers.
“I’m afraid so, my dear. Every tender moment. Every sweet word. Every time he touched you.” Adrian’s voice drips with false sympathy. “Tony was simply following my instructions.Building an emotional connection he could exploit when the time came.”
Sasha turns away from both of us, her shoulders shaking. Adrian watches her with naked satisfaction, savoring the destruction he’s been planning for two years.
