I type back:This is a temporary phone for the trip. Please don’t give Eric my new number. It belongs to the company, and I could lose my job.
I would never do that without asking you first, but you’re being too hard on him. He’s worried about you, baby.
I turn the phone face down on the bed and press both hands against my thighs until the frustration settles into something I can manage. My mother will hold my new number for approximately three conversations before Eric asks her gently and reasonably, and she decides sharing it would be an act of love. I need to plan for that.
Just remember not to tell him. It’s important. I don’t want to lose my job.
She sends an eye-roll emoji along with:You don’t have to keep harping on that. I already said I wouldn’t.
I have to accept that for now, even though she’ll eventually break. I just text back:Thanks. Love you.
She replies a moment later with a string of heart-eyed emojis that make me shake my head but smile. Mom and I have our differences. I’ll never approve of the way she goes through men, just like she’ll never approve of me shying away from commitment, but I know she loves me more than an infinite amount of heart-eyed emojis can convey.
The restof the afternoon passes in a strange, suspended quiet. Adrian works in his study with the door open, and I hear him speaking Russian on the phone in a voice that’s lower and more clipped than his English. The language makes him sound different, harder at the edges, and I find myself listening to the rhythm of it even though I can’t understand a word.
I try reading on the couch. The bookshelf holds Russian novels, financial theory, and a biography of Catherine the Great thatlooks well-thumbed. I pick up the biography and read forty pages before realizing I’ve retained nothing because my brain keeps circling back to Dominic’s recordings and the list of clients whose secrets are now in Karpov’s hands. I text Marisol to also grab my e-reader just in case my concentration improves.
We eat lunch at the same table without talking about anything that matters. I ask if he can arrange to pick up my items from Marisol, explaining his man packed with a clear lack of female needs. He agrees while making espresso on a machine that looks like it requires an engineering degree and offers me a cup. I decline and drink water. He doesn’t push.
He texts someone and says, “Where should Fedor meet Marisol?” Working out the details takes all of five minutes before we revert to silence. It isn’t hostile, but it isn’t comfortable either. It’s the silence of two people who’ve shared a bed and a crime scene within the same hour and haven’t figured out how to talk about either one.
Around six, Adrian takes a phone call in the study and closes the door. I’m standing in the kitchen refilling my glass when Viktor walks in through the front entrance rolling one of the suitcases I recognize from my luggage set behind him. “She packed enough for a year.”
I laugh. “More like a week.”
He grunts but smiles very briefly as he releases the suitcase to stand beside me. “There was a laptop inside. Your friend took greatcareto wrap it between layers of clothing.”
He says it neutrally, but it’s clear he’s realized I was trying to smuggle it in. I nod and try to look innocent. “May I use it?”
“Grigor will need to configure it before you use it for anything connected to a network, but then you can have it.”
“Thank you.” I look at the bag and then at Viktor. He’s standing in the kitchen in his usual dark jacket, looking at me with an expression that isn’t hostile but isn’t warm either. “I know you don’t want me here, but I appreciate your help.”
He shrugs. “Adrian doesn’t bring people into his personal spaces. I’ve known him for seventeen years. In that time, I’ve been the only person besides cleaning staff who has entered this apartment.”
“Oh.” That sounds…cozy. “Did he bring me here because it’s not linked to him?”
“No.” I think that will be his only answer for a moment before he adds, “Not entirely. You should understand what it means that you’re here.” He looks into my eyes. “He made a decision about you, and he won’t reverse it.
“But you will if need be?” I ask under my breath.
He frowns. “Most of the time, protecting Adrian means following his orders.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Once again, he shrugs. “I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you how Adrian operates. Once he decides someone belongs inside his perimeter, he doesn’t let that change unless they betray him, like Dominic did.”
“Do you think that’s a mistake?”
Viktor considers the question for three full seconds. “The only mistake would be if you turn out to be less than what he believes you are.”
I hold his gaze. “I don’t know what he believes I am.”
“Neither does he. That’s what concerns me.” He adjusts his jacket and turns toward the study. At the door, he stops. “Grigor monitors communications on the secure line. He flagged Eric Hayes calling your personal phone twice today without leaving a message. The third time, Hayes left a voicemail.”
I stiffen which is mostly an automatic reaction to hearing his name. “What did he say?”
“He’s asking to meet you. He says Dominic has disappeared, and he needs to speak with you about the club. He sounds very concerned.” Viktor delivers the last two words with a flatness that makes it clear he finds Eric’s concern about as genuine as a three-dollar bill.
