Leigh dove for the mat, fingers skimming across the surface before closing around the knife that had gone flying earlier. She rolled with it, came up on one knee, blade back in her hand like it had never left as I moved toward her.
I lunged, and caught her wrist just as she brought it up, steel flashing between us. The impact jolted up my arm. We froze there, faces locked inches apart.
Her smile was wicked.
“Told you,” she said quietly. “Predictable.”
I stared at her for a long second, then shook my head with a breathless laugh and released her wrist, stepping back and raising my hands in surrender.
“Fine,” I said. “Point proven.”
She straightened, knife still in hand, chest rising and falling like she’d just won something more important than a spar.
“Next time,” she said, brushing past me, shoulder clipping mine on purpose, “don’t hesitate.”
I stood there long after she’d walked off, foot and face still throbbing.
I knew damn well that she was right.
But I couldn’t help the way she made me feel.
The memory dissolvesthe moment I step through the door, walking around Finnic.
He seems ready to put distance between himself and Leigh before she can crawl any further into his head.
“Don’t.” I command.
He stops in his tracks, then glances back at me.
The conflict is written all over his face. Doubt pulling him in opposite directions, weighing loyalties that no longer fit.
Who to trust. Who to stand beside.
“What,” he mutters. “You ready to torture her again?”
“Torture’s a strong word.”
I turn away from him before he can argue, already pulling my phone from my pocket. At the tap of the screen, the recorded video reloads exactly where I left it.
Viktor has been efficient in getting the information he needs from the Armani’s.
Leigh doesn’t move when I kneel beside her. She stays where she is on the thin mattress, her hair falling slightly around her face. But her eyes track me instantly.
“What’s this?” she asks.
Finnic shifts behind me. “What are you showing her?”
“Quiet,” I say without looking back.
I lean in close enough that she can see the screen clearly when I tilt it toward her. Close enough that I can see the moment her confidence falters.
I press play on the video.
Representative Armani’s voice filters out through the audio. He is consistently bargaining and barely holding together. His face is bruised and swollen from the numerous blows to the skin.
Viktor circles him like a lion hunting its prey. “You either give us what we want, or I broadcast your daughter’s allegations against you to the media.”
Leigh’s breath hitches dramatically.
