“You hide behind screens and bought men,” I retort sharply. “You don’t stand in front of anyone when things go wrong. That isn’t a network. That’s rot.”
“You’re angry,” he says, sounding very pleased. “Good. You should be. Anger clears the mind when fear tries to smear it. Hold on to it, Raina. Just make sure you point it in the right direction.”
I take a breath and hold it. This room feels smaller now.
“You still didn’t answer the real question,” I say. “How did I get here?”
17
RAINA
The Courier is quiet for a moment. I hear faint clicking. Keys. He’s doing three things at once while he speaks. “Poor, sweet Raina. Always so easy to trust,” he finally says, his tone carrying a mocking lilt. “You put your baby to bed and thought you were leaving her in safe hands. Don’t you see Nadia was never the end goal? It’s you, silly girl. It’s you that I want. And Anastasia was right where I needed her to be.”
My hands curl on the table.
“You’re lying,” I answer, even while my voice shakes.
“I don’t need to lie about this,” he replies. “She’s been inside his house for years. Trust like that is earned over time and is usually never subject to suspicion.”
My vision blurs at the edges. I blink it clear.
“You moved her into place,” I repeat.
“Yes,” he says. His voice drops lower, pleased with himself. “When I found her again in your crew, it was easy. I checked her family, checked her records. Her brother owed moneyeverywhere. Her mother couldn’t afford her pills. All I had to do was show her the numbers. She broke in under ten minutes. Most people do.”
His voice drips with malice, yet somehow, he manages to keep it deceptively calm. “And she wasn’t the only one. You’d be shocked how many of his men opened their mouths for me. One had a gambling problem. One had a son in trouble. One thought Sergei had forgotten him after his last injury. I didn’t even need to threaten them. I only had to promise them something he never gave them.”
He lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. “I told them they mattered, and for weak people, that’s always enough.”
An uncomfortable shiver runs up my spine, but I can’t find anything to say.
The Courier continues. “They didn’t even know it was me. I kept it clean. Simple tasks. Door timings. Delivery notes. Guard swaps. Nothing that made noise, nothing they could trace later. But it all built the picture I needed.”
His voice drops to a whisper that’s only just audible. “He built his house on fear and loyalty. I break both. That’s why I win.”
A breath later, he sighs. “That’s why she served me, not him.”
“You’re telling me she worked for you this whole time,” I say. My voice is flat now. It’s the only way I can keep it steady.
“She worked for what gives her the best chance of survival,” he answers smoothly.
I press my thumb hard into my palm. Pain blooms. It helps.
“Did she know about tonight?” I ask. “Did she know you would take me away from my daughter?”
“She knew the cocoa was stronger than usual,” he says. “And that it would let you sleep, after which she’d need to hand you over to another trusted agent. She didn’t know where you would wake. She never asked, and I never told her. I suspect she doesn’t want to imagine you in a cage.”
“I’m not in a cage,” I say, looking around the painted room.
He gives a small sound that might be a smile.
“A cage is a structure that doesn’t let you leave,” he says. “It doesn’t have to be ugly. It only has to hold.”
I stand and walk to the door again. I press my ear to the wood, but I can’t hear anything on the other side. No steps, no voices, no hum of a large building. Outside the window, the trees are still. No cars, no horns, no city sounds. Only wind and some distant bird.
“You brought me to the country,” I say.
“I brought you somewhere quiet,” he answers. “You have been running in noise for years. You think best when the room is simple. I wanted that for this talk.”
