Page 109 of Mr. Match

“She used the money you sent her school for tuition.”

I sit up straight. “Then how did she go to school?”

“They have been taking care of your sister for a very, very long time, Katya. I’m sorry to tell you this, but I lost interest in her many, many years ago. She is a rat. She is a liar. She cannot be trusted. And right now she is about to lie her way back into your life. They are plotting, Katya. The Silver Society, the Antimony Association—call them whatever you want. They are hiding out here,” he says. And then he tabs the screen again and it’s a live night-vision feed of a house on the side of a mountain.

“Where is that?” I ask, pointing to the tablet.

“Not far enough away to be safe from me.”

His threat sends a chill down my spine.

“You are right about me too, Katya. I am not good. I am just as bad. But today I am on your side.” He smiles. “They are liars too,” he says. “But they hide in plain sight. They run for political offices, and get law degrees, and run cities, and states, and sometimes, every now and then, one of their husbands makes it to the White House. But don’t be fooled, child. They are just like me.”

I stare at him. I know everything he’s telling me is true. The part about Lily, the part about my parents, the part about the Silver Society and the Antimony girls. “They recruited Lily when she was little,” I say. It’s not a question.

“While Lucio Gori Senior was cutting your throat, your baby sister was having tea with Mrs. Conrad.”

“She was seven,” I say.

“She was seven,” he whispers back. “This is an old feud, Katya. One that has nothing at all to do with you. It is between Mariel Hawthorne—who left the Silver Society when she figured out what they were thirty-five years ago—and the Conrads, who never got over the fact that she did not marry who they told her to. That she got pregnant with that movie star’s child. That she would so thoroughly dismiss them and live to tell about it.”

“The attack on the Misters?” I say. “That was about… Paxton?”

“Paxton,” he says. “And the others too,” he says, shrugging with his hands. “No matter how innocent they think their families are, there are always skeletons coming back to life.”

I just sit and think about that for a little bit.

The Russian slaps his knees with both hands. “And now we are back to the choice.”

“What choice?” I ask, feeling numb all over.

“Your sister. Do you want her to live, Katya? We have agents ready to raid that mountain house. But you have to know, she is one of them. Now and forever. Her loyalty is to them. You barely qualify as an afterthought. She invited you to the Antimony House because Gori was there yesterday. He was supposed to take you then.” These words come out as a whisper. Like it’s a secret he really doesn’t want to tell.

I want to throw up.

“We can raid the house, but they will get away. Maybe not tonight. And they will not get away without bruises. But they will get away.”

“So what do you want from me?” I ask.

“Thumbs up she lives,” he says. “But there is another, better solution.”

“Thumbs down,” I say, looking at my feet. “You want me to decide if these people go free and live to ruin more lives. Or if they die tonight.”

“If you want to have that choice, I give it to you. Do you want to save your sister, Katya?”

“I want to go home,” I say.

“Of course,” he says, leaning forward to knock on the window behind me.

The car begins to move and I sink lower in my seat. I feel lower than ever. Like I just lost. There is no success in my life. Not one ounce of it exists. There is nothing but lies, and failure, and—

“Do you know why I like Oliver?” the Russian says.

“Oliver?” I ask. “What about Oliver?”

“I hired him. That day out on the bench, he was told to save you from your grand money-making ideas. I know it’s not rational, Katya. But I have always liked you. And he had that marketplace. God, such a stupid boy.” The Russian laughs. “But he was easy to find, and in the perfect place. So I guess that’s good, right?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I say, sitting up taller. “Oliver worked for you?”