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“I’m getting tired,” I correct. “Maybe if Timur were willing to get his hands dirty, or if we could have anticipated⁠—”

“No,” she interrupts quietly. “You’re getting attached.”

I look toward the lake again, trying to ignore the aching blow of the accusation. The worst part is that I don’t have an argument against her. Rage burns through me so quickly it almost clears my head.

“Call everyone,” I murmur.

Ariadna doesn’t move. Her eyes flick toward the doorway.

Arthur is standing there. I hadn’t heard him come in. He and Ariadna exchange a look that tells me exactly what they’re thinking.

Don’t do this.

I stare at them until Ariadna finally pulls out her phone. A few seconds later, she sends the text.

* * *

Just after nine p.m. I’m standing in the ordinary conference room, separate from the secure room with the jammers, at Deep Waters headquarters. Only the people who matter are here. Ariadna. Arthur. Timur.

My brother looks like he would rather be anywhere else.

Outside the windows, Lake Placid has settled into its evening rhythm. The streets are quieter now. People are finishing dinner, walking toward bars, settling into the kind of ordinary night I stopped having years ago. I roll my shoulders, trying not to look at Timur and the longing on his face to be home, with Nat, with their kid.

I’ve never had that. I probably never will. And I hate that fact.

The office feels conspicuous this late at night; too bright, too late. Now that my annoyance with Ariadna and Arthur has cooled, I realize this was likely not the smartest move. It’s not the best way to keep attention off Deep Waters in the middle of a lawsuit.

Arthur stands near the windows, arms folded.

“This place shouldn’t be occupied at this hour.”

I look at him, and he reads my mind: “We’re on one of the top floors. Lights on, cars downstairs, people coming and going.” He gestures toward the glass. “Anyone watching the building will notice.”

“They already know we’re here.”

“That doesn’t mean we need to advertise it.”

I feel the anger rising again. “I’m not hiding in the dark because Yuri might notice a light.”

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “This isn’t hiding. It’s security.”

“I know what security is. Shouldn’t you be providing that at the Maple Street offices?”

His jaw flexes. Earlier today, when Matilda left for jury selection in Elizabethtown, I specifically sent Arthur with her. They came back to the Maple Street office afterward. Now he’s returned here, but Matilda is still at the office with her team.

“There are four men on her,” he says quietly. “One entrance and exit. It’s two blocks away from the police station.”

Timur shifts in his chair, cutting off the cold retort I had loaded for my Avtoritet.

“I’m going to regret coming here, aren’t I?” my brother murmurs nervously. I ignore him.

Arthur takes a step toward me.

“You’ve been warned. Yuri knows the trial is tying up your resources. He knows Matilda is exposed. And now you’re gathering everyone in the most visible building we own.”

“She was nearly run off the road.”

“And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t be making decisions angry.”