Konstantin tilted his head. Just slightly. The same movement Raven made when she was focusing on a sound. The parallel hit me like a fist to the sternum.
"You have been spending time with her," Konstantin said. Not a question.
"Viktor asked me to watch her."
"And you have been...thorough in your surveillance."
Behind me, Dmitri made a sound like a choked off laugh.
"I've been doing my job," I said.
"Your job." Konstantin picked up his pipe again. Turned it. Set it down. "Mr. Scott, I will be direct with you, because I respect efficiency and I suspect you do as well."
I nodded.
"I have reviewed Viktor's reports. I have reviewed the shipping data. I have reviewed the timeline of interceptions and cross-referenced them with personnel schedules, access points, and communication patterns. And I have arrived at a conclusion."
He unbuttoned his suit jacket.
"Thereisa leak in this organization. And it has access to operational details that are only discussed in this restaurant."
He leaned closer. Close enough that I could smell the pipe tobacco embedded in the material of his suit, rich and dark and permanent.
"And I know that every conversation held within earshot of that piano"—he gestured through the wall toward the dining room—"is compromised until proven otherwise."
The room fell into silence as I waited.
Viktor broke it. "Which brings us to our problem, Milo."
I was shaking my head before he said the words.
"You are compromised," Viktor said.
I didn't move.
"You have been fucking her. Sleeping in her apartment. Spending every night in her bed for the last week, if not longer." He held up a hand when I opened my mouth. "Do not insult me by denying it. I know where you've been. I know where your car has been parked. And so does Konstantin."
My mouth snapped shut.
"You were asked to investigate her," Viktor continued. "Instead, you are inside her. This is not investigation. This is compromise. And it makes everything you have reported unreliable."
The worst part was that he wasn't wrong.
"Here is what will happen." Viktor sat back. Glanced at Konstantin, who gave the slightest nod. Permission granted. Chain of command confirmed.
"You will stop. Tonight. No more visits to her apartment. No more nights in her bed. No more contact outside of this restaurant and only when necessary. You will conduct yourself as a professional, or I will remove you from this situation entirely."
He paused. Let the words settle.
"And if you do not—if I learn that you have gone to her again—I hand her to Konstantin's people. And they will have their conversations with her in a room you will not be invited to."
He took a slow sip of vodka.
"You understand what I am telling you?"
I understood exactly.
Konstantin's "conversation" would last days and ended with dental records being the only way to identify what was left.
