Page 119 of Deceitful Vows

Mercifully, he isn’t a man I need to pry answers out of.

“She’s on the list, but you may not want to announce that.”

I pretend I can’t feel Maksim’s beady eyes on me. “Why?”

“Because Maksim isn’t the only one fond of the Good Doctor. So is your girl.”

When my phone dings, I remove it from my pocket and then mimic Konstantine’s expletive. The image he forwarded is grainy. It represents what I was staring at earlier. Zoya standing next to a brunette woman at the check-in counter of Maksim’s hotel.

Even if I hadn’t seen her in the multiple surveillance updates Konstantine compiled on Zoya’s trek across the country, the image makes it obvious that they’re close.

After a deliberation not long enough to truly determine where my loyalties should lie, and a quick scroll through the information Konstantine forwarded about Dr. Hoffman, I lock eyes with Maksim and say, “She is on the list. But…” I’ve never seen a man more desperate for an out than the one sitting across from me. “Something seems off with her inclusion.” My gut announces this… and perhaps the orifice in my chest I thought would never return to is pre-black sludge days.

Maksim appears seconds from demanding answers by the removal of fingers, but I realize I’m not the only one with a bead-like device in my ear when he slants his head for the quickest second before he wraps up our meeting with a quick-worded snap. “I need to take this.” When I don’t immediately jump to the command in his tone, he adds, “In private.”

Since the interruption occurs at the same time I spot Mikhail walking Zoya to the hotel’s elevators, I nod in understanding before exiting his office.

Konstantine’s deep timbre rumbles through my earpiece two seconds later. “We got someone piggybacking off our feed. Want me to force them out?”

I stray my eyes to Maksim’s office for the quickest second before shaking my head. He’s so immersed in watching whatever is playing on his laptop that it will take his hacker longer to realize Konstantine is returning the favor than learning our system isn’t the one he should be infiltrating.

If his crew wants information, they need to immerse themselves deep in the federation’s bowels.

“Are you sure?” Konstantine asks, obviously having eyes on me since I didn’t vocalize my reply.

“No,” I answer, once again taking the honesty route. “But you should be used to that by now, right?”

I steal his chance to reply by removing the bead from my ear, dropping it to the ground, and then crushing it under my shoe with the first step I take in Mikhail’s direction.

Another battle is in my sights, and it is far more appealing.

I just need to settle my brother’s confusion first.

Mikhail looks set to unload a lengthy interrogation on me, but since I have far better ways to occupy my time while Zakhar sleeps, I butt in. “Why is she here?”

I assumed Zoya was in this part of the Trudny District for me. She has the gall to put any man in his place—even one as cocky as me. I was proven wrong when her taxi veered west upon exiting the airport instead of south.

Although Zoya is the best person for me to seek answers from, once again, I have better ways to occupy the time I didn’t know I desperately needed until I saw her in the flesh for the first time in weeks.

“She wouldn’t say,” Mikhail discloses, tightening my jaw. “But she seemed genuinely surprised to see me here, so I doubt she knew this is your home turf until I told her.” His chuckle pisses me off, though not as much as what he says next. “She wanted me to tell you that she is only here for three nights, and that she will stay out of your hair if you agree to do the same.” The remainder of his reply matches the thoughts in my head. “I told her there was a fat chance of that happening but I’d pass on the message.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but when several seconds pass in silence, I ask, “Did she mention Zak?”

He shifts from foot to foot before scrubbing at the stubble on his chin. “No. Which seems a little odd.”

I don’t agree with him. Zoya is loyal to a fault. She’s had plenty of opportunities over the past several weeks to air my dirty laundry for the world to see, but she hasn’t told a soul.

Not even her best friend knows about us.

My tight jaw firms more when Mikhail asks, “Do you know Dad tried to bribe her to stay away from us?”

I almost say, “From me,” but my focus shifts elsewhere when the side profile of a guest sliding out of a blacked-out SUV near the valet registers as familiar. You can’t miss the large scar along one side of his jaw.

His name hogs the number one spot on the hitlist I handed Maksim earlier, so why the fuck is he walking into this hotel like there isn’t a bounty on his head?

A hundred theories run through my head. Only one is legitimate. He’s here because whatever he is seeking is far more important than his life. That can only mean one thing.

He’s here on the federation’s behalf.

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