Something isn’t right.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Katarina
Win’s handat my back is the only reason I move up the stairs.
The moment we enter the foyer of the Dover Museum, I realize why my body is revolting.
The why of its response is evident that moment I catch a large banner on the far wall. “This is a fundraiser for Ukraine.”
“Yes.” He keeps pushing me forward.
“But…” I look at him, trying to understand. Because an event like this will be filled with Russians. Some making a stand against their country’s invasion. Others exonerating themselves of guilt. And many attempting to play both sides of the conflict.
But either way…
“Why did you bring me here?” I finally manage to push out.
“Relax. It’s all part of the plan.” Win keeps propelling me forward.
“What plan?” I croak. Certainly not the one where he pumps me for intel. This is completely different.
“We’re making a statement tonight.” He stops, dead in the middle of the crowd.
“What statement?” I half gasp, half whisper. I knew that Win has been playing me this entire time, but I didn’t think… “You said you were going to bring one of your debutantes tonight.”
“No. You said that.”
Shit. He’s right. I did say that. I stop, nearly falling forward at the pressure of his hand at my back. Instead, his other hand comes to my stomach to catch me. “Katarina.”
There is a warning in his tone. I’m to keep moving, or else. “Violence doesn’t motivate me.”
“I know.”
I might be in three-inch heels, but I still have this feeling like I should run. We drove twenty, twenty-five minutes. And Win has separated me from my fallback money. I’m here, it’s at the estate. Bastard. If I go now, I’ve got no means with which to travel.
But maybe I should still slip into the night. Leave. I can do it without the cash. It’ll take longer but…
“What will motivate you?” he asks, as the crowd moves around us.
I look up at him, trying to control the panic. It makes no sense that his dark brown eyes should calm me when he’s the one creating the chaos. “Knowledge, for starters. Why am I here, Win?”
He draws in a deep breath and then lets it out through his nose. “You’re here tonight as the cheese.”
I blink up at him, my brain fritzing for a moment before it clears. “Cheese?”
“I want your father to know. I want him to come.”
My mouth falls open as I try to process what he just said. I’m bait. Just a small fish meant to bring in the big prize.
That’s when I look to the left and catch the gaze of a Russian diplomat, Boris Checkov. I suck in a breath as I blink several times.
Boris stares back, his eyes widening in surprise. My knees nearly give out, it’s Win’s hands on my back and stomach that keep me from going down. I watch in horror as Boris pulls out his phone and punches the screen before he brings it to his ear.
A small cry falls from my lips. I had a plan of my own. And this is not it.
Because Win’s plan is already in motion. Boris is as dirty as a diplomat can be, and my father will know in minutes that I’m here.
