Kitty on it and assumed she was playing me? Or that I was playing you? Correct?”
“Da,” he says, and I can tell the delay is getting to him. Good. The more amped up he is, the less logical he will be, which helps me.
“Have you ever dreamed of being someone else, Nikolai? Of not having the Romanov name and all that comes with it?” I ask, improvising on the spot. “I know that while there have been moments I’ve enjoyed being a Stone, there have been others that it was not seen as favorable.”
He nods, listening and at least on my hook.
“Kitty here has a name too. Emma Daniels. It also comes with family expectations, professional obligations, and such. But when she is with me, she leaves all that behind and is simply mine. My Kitty.” I reach down, running a finger through her hair, and she tilts into me. It doesn’t feel like an act for a moment but like it’s just us.
“But she is still Emma, a talented actress who is quite excited to have been cast in Cleopatra. There is no subterfuge in her name. She is merely one to me and one to everyone else. In the interest of disclosure, I trust that you will do a check on Emma Daniels. You will find that she is the daughter of a loving family and the sister of an FBI agent.”
“What?” he roars, standing up and slamming his palms to the table in front of him.
“Calm yourself. Sit.” I take care to make it sound casual, not like the order I gave Emma. “This is not a private board room or one of your restaurants. This is the Four Seasons. She is an informant for me. Her sister occasionally tells her things, which she shares with me. And vice versa. I’m certain you have police and agents in your pocket in Brazil and in Russia. It’s no different.”
Nikolai glares at me. “Da, I have spies, but I do not use them as fuck toys.”
I narrow my eyes, insulted. “Kitty isn’t a plaything. She’s mine. And if you call her a fuck toy again . . . I will take it as a personal insult. And there will be consequences.”
Though the words are intended to save us, they ring truer than I’d realized they would. My heart jumps at the realization, blooming dangerous thoughts.
“You should have told me,” he challenges.
I let a dark chuckle out, challenging him. “As you have shared all your secrets with me? No, I think not. But perhaps now that we are alone, we can finish our business? Are you ready to come to an agreement? Has your father made his decision?”
Bringing Papa Romanov into the conversation is intentional, a distracting ploy to make Nikolai feel small. He will rise to the challenge to prove himself big. It’s who he is and what he does, every time.
He looks to Emma, evaluating what he wants to say now that he knows she reports to the FBI for me. To put his mind at ease, I say, “She reports back only what I tell her to. This is of no concern to the FBI, merely a son paying homage to his father.”
“A decision has been made,” he says, not filling in the blanks on whose call it was, though we both know. “The package for safe passage as you outlined.”
“Accepted.” I offer a hand, and he shakes, but he’s crushing my hand in his grip.
He pulls my hand toward his gut instead of letting go. “I do not like surprises. There will be no more.”
I meet his eyes, threat for threat, squeezing back just as hard as he’s trying to crush me. “Agreed, and I assume that holds true for you as well.”
Chapter 25
Emma
We’re in Nathan’s car, heading for his house, but I have to call Carly. We left and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I’m scared, but she’s a grown woman who knows her way around a party and NYC, so it can’t be too bad.
I hope.
“Carly?” I say when the line connects. “Where are you?”
“Em, something has come up,” she says evasively, but at least she sounds like she’s not drunk or frightened or in danger. She just sounds . . . tense. “Like something major. I’m, uh, I don’t know if I’m going to make it to the play tomorrow.”
Her words are stilted, like she’s still searching for them even as she speaks. Okay, more than tense. Rattled.