“No.” He says it fast, but there’s a beat before anything else comes, and that tiny hesitation is all it takes.
I stare at him in the dark, dread settling heavier in my gut.
My father is still moving forward. The arrangement is still moving forward. And agreeing that Anton needs to die doesn’t actually change anything if we can’t figure out how to make it happen before he ships me off.
The thought lands hard enough that I feel suddenly, stupidly close to tears.
“If we can’t figure it out soon,” I say, throat tight, “then none of this matters anyway.”
Luca goes still beside me. “Nat?—”
“I mean it.” I swallow. “We can lie here and say he has to go, but there’s still a deadline. My father isn’t going to pause his plans because I finally admitted I want him dead.” My voice thins, and I hate it. “If we don’t find a way to stop him, I’m still going to end up on a plane to Colombia.”
Luca’s arm tightens around me so fast it almost hurts.
“You’re not.” His voice is hot and fierce against my hair. “I’m not letting that happen.”
My throat aches.
I know he means it. That’s the problem. He means everything with his whole body, like sheer force of will ought to be enough to bend reality around the people he loves.
For a second he just holds me there, breathing hard.
Then he pulls back just enough to look at me. “What do you know about him?”
“Who? The Colombian?”
“Yeah.” His jaw is tight. “Anything.”
“Not much. His name is Luis Restrepo.”
Luca mutters a curse as his body goes rigid next to me.
“You know the name,” I say.
He swallows. “I know the name.”
He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to. The way his body changed when I said it tells me my fear of the man isn’t unfounded.
“What else do you know about the arrangement?” he asks. “Anything you’ve heard about how this alliance is supposed to work.”
“Almost nothing.” I let out an ugly laugh. “I wasn’t exactly included in the logistics.”
His thumb moves softly against my waist. “Think about it again. Anything you might’ve overheard. It might not have seemed important at the time.”
I exhale and stare past him at the ceiling.
I spent years teaching myself not to listen too closely. In my father’s house, understanding too much could be its own kind of danger. Most of it turned into noise after a while. But sometimes a detail still lodged where I didn’t want it.
After a second, a fragment tugs loose.
“Nikolai was on the phone,” I say slowly. “When he was here. I heard him talking about a shipment. Weapons, I think. He sounded impatient about timing, like it was supposed to happen soon and he wanted it done already.”
Luca’s thumb stops moving.
“He said something about it being the first real exchange. Show of good faith, I think. That was the phrase he used.” I’m putting the pieces together as I talk. “I didn’t think much of it then. I was just trying to get through the visit.”
I look at him. “Could that be about the alliance? About Restrepo?”
