He lets out a heavy sigh. “Mireille, please—”
But Sergei cuts him off. “We don't have time for this, Bill. We need to decide what to do with her.”
“What do you mean?” Dad asks. His voice has gone eerily quiet, an indicator of his rage.
“I mean, she knows too much. She recognized me from the restaurant—I saw the way she was looking at me tonight. Then I caught her listening at the door while the Balshovs were talking. She’s a liability now, Bill,” Sergei explains.
My blood turns to ice.
“G-go where, Dad?” My voice breaks. “What is he talking about?”
Sergei turns toward me, arms crossed. “Look, princess. Your old man has too much to lose if word gets out. The Bureau thinks he’s their golden boy, but he’s been playing both sides for years. Feeding intel to the Balshovs’ rivals, selling it, trading it. Keeps his record clean, keeps his wallet full. Imagine what would happen to him if all of that got out. It’ll—”
“That’s enough,” my father snaps, cutting Sergei off.
I've heard enough, too.
I turn my head slowly toward him, keeping my eyes fixed on his. “Dad, is that true?”
He runs a hand through his hair, the controlled composure I’ve always known slipping for the first time. “You don’t understand how it started. They came to me years ago. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You’ve been helping criminals.” The words taste wrong, heavy. “Dad…how could you?”
His voice softens, his expression desperate for…understanding? Sympathy? “Everything I do is for you and your mom, Mireille. I’ve kept this family safe, haven't I?”
My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear him. “Safe? You think this is safe?” I look from him to Sergei. “You’re both working for the people the FBI’s supposed to be stopping. Dad!”
Sergei shrugs, as if the whole thing is just business. “Everyone trades something. Your father trades secrets.”
I can’t breathe. The room feels smaller, the air thicker.
My father turns back to him. “Get us a moment. Alone.”
Sergei smirks faintly but steps toward the door. “Fine. But one way or another, she needs to be dealt with. If she talks, it’s on you.”
He disappears down the hall, leaving silence in his wake.
My father kneels beside me and begins untying the ropes. “I never wanted you to see this side of me. You weren’t supposed to know.”
Tears sting my eyes. “And Mom?”
“She doesn’t know either. She’s happier that way.”
When the ropes fall away, I rub my wrists, still too stunned to move.
“Sergei said he saw me looking at him tonight. And that he caught me listening at the door.” I swallow hard. “But he already knew about me seeing you two in the alley, didn’t he? That’s why he’s been watching me.”
My father’s face pales. “He mentioned he thought someone had spotted us that day. I never imagined it was you. If only you hadn’t been there…”
My throat tightens. “What's your business with the Balchovs?”
He looks up at me, a frown knitting his brows. “What do you mean?”
“My boyfriend Dmitri. Dmitri Balshov.”
His expression changes instantly, rage flashing across it like lightning. “Dima? The new guy you told me about—that’s Dmitri Balshov?”
I flinch at the fury in his voice. “You know who he is.” It’s not a question.
