Page 29 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

“You’re frightened,” he says.

“You’re hurting me.”

His fingers release at once. I hate him more for noticing fear without mocking it.

Dmitri’s eyes narrow. “You want to call someone? Your mother?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

I swallow. “Kathryn. She’s my friend.”

His gaze stays on me for another second. “You want to call her?”

“When?”

“Now. Under supervision.”

My throat closes so fast, I almost sway. “Give me the phone.”

He takes a device from his coat. Not mine. It’s a prison phone with better branding.

“The call will be routed through estate security,” he says. “You won’t say where you are. You won’t mention names. You won’t ask for location details. The other person will confirm they’re safe.”

He dials. My hand is damp when I take the phone. Dmitri stays in front of me, close enough to stop anything.

Kathryn answers on the second ring. “Cara?”

My knees nearly give. I grab the back of the chair and make my voice work. “Hey. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. Where the hell are you?” Her voice comes through thin and far away, but I’d know it anywhere.

“Work trip.”

“Bullshit.”

God, I love her.

I close my eyes. “Emergency trip. It got complicated.”

A pause follows, and then Kathryn’s voice changes. Panic steps back. Control takes its place. “The mechanic ate pancakes, Cara.”

My heart breaks clean in half.

Mikhail is safe.

I press my hand to my mouth for one second, then force it down. “Good. Good, that’s good.”

“He asked if you forgot breakfast rules,” Kathryn says.

A laugh tears out of me, half sob, half animal. “I would never.”

Dmitri watches me closely, and I remember him standing there only after the words leave my mouth.

“Cara, I need to know what to do,” Kathryn says.

“Keep the routine. No visitors. No calls from family. Especially family.”