Page 148 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

“That must be so hard for you.”

His eyes narrow.

“Blacklist kept you alive,” Patrick says. “I put your name where Volkov would see it. Where Antonov would see it. Morozov could make you disappear from a Boston sidewalk. He couldn’t pull you out of Volkov custody without starting a war.”

My stomach turns. Now he’s giving it. The truth wrapped in trash.

“You didn’t save me,” I say. “You parked me where two dangerous men would fight over the cost of touching me.”

Patrick’s smile fades.

“And Mikhail?” I ask. “Was he part of the calculation too?”

“Careful with your words, Cara.”

“No,” I say, stepping closer. “Don’t hide behind family now. You used my son as a warning label.”

Patrick glances once toward the camera above the hall, then back to me.

New Harbor makes him nervous. I press on. “Why does New Harbor matter?”

His face falls.

“Patrick.”

He laughs once, uneasy and thin. “New Harbor is paperwork.”

“What kind?”

He props one shoulder against the wall. “The kind that keeps people alive.”

“No,” I say. “The kind that keeps you alive.”

His eyes flick to the service lift. I catch it before he can cover it. New Harbor is his shield.

“You kept proof,” I say. “Wallets, approvals, names. That’s why Morozov hasn’t buried you yet.”

Patrick says nothing.

“And I’m your insurance,” I continue. “Mikhail is the part that makes Dmitri move.”

The wire stays silent. No voice in my ear, no order from Dmitri, and even then, I know he heard every word.

Patrick’s face changes.

For the first time since he stepped out of that lift, my brother looks truly angry.

“You always did need everything written down,” he says.

“And you always hated getting caught.”

“You owed money,” I say, pointing one finger toward him. “But it wasn’t only money, was it?”

Patrick rubs a hand over his forehead. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it.”

He looks at me for a long second.