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“Interesting.”

That one word is enough to make him uneasy. He reaches for his wine, then seems to remember It’s still the middle of the day and settles for water instead.

I ask, “And you often lunch with his daughter?”

Katerina’s head turns slightly toward me. There is warning in the movement.

I ignore it.

Arkady gives a small, practiced smile. “This is the first proper chance.”

“Proper,” I repeat.

He nods.

Vika jumps in quickly. “Papa thought it would be nice.”

“Did he?”

“Yes,” she says, with the confidence of a woman who is already overexplaining.

Katerina looks at the sky.

“I see,” I say.

“I just want to settle down,” Arkady says.

“A little too late for that,” Katerina mutters under her breath.

That thought settles in my head just as Arkady says, a little too casually, “The old families are all being very careful these days.”

I look at him.

He takes a sip of water and instantly regrets speaking.

Vika frowns. “What does that mean?”

Arkady gives a dismissive wave. “Nothing. Just business.”

But I hear it.

I say, very mildly, “Careful about what?”

Arkady laughs. It comes out thin. “Surely you know better than I do.”

“Try me.”

Katerina is watching me now. Not the performance, not the lunch, not Vika. Just me.

She feels it, too. The shift.

I keep my eyes on Arkady.

“Nothing, nothing,” he says.

But I know that look.

Men like Arkady don’t get spooked by ordinary business. Something is going on, and I intend to find out.