Page 58 of The Knight

Understanding slipped into place. She twisted the band of her watch until metal pressed into skin. They weren’t just after her expertise—they wanted her as bait. A lure for Korolov.

“That sounds dangerous,” Freya said quietly.

“It is.” Abe shifted forward, closing the space between them like he could shield her from the truth. But it was too late for that.

“It could work, right? He needs me to open the laptop. If he has me, it leads us right to it. You could catch him in the act—when he tries to take me.”

“Freya, it’s not that simple.” Abe flexed his fingers against the table. She knew him well enough now, knew he was struggling to hold back.

She ignored the way her heart tripped at his concern.

We’re not even a couple.

She straightened in her chair. “I was responsible for that laptop when it was stolen. This is my chance to fix it.” Her voice was calm. “And there’s a kill switch embedded in the encryption. If I got close enough, I could destroy the data. End this whole nightmare.”

“A kill switch? That sounds like the best idea yet.” Zak rubbed his hands together.

“That would be a less than choice scenario.” Kat frowned.

“But preferable to it falling into the wrong hands.” Freya drew in a slow breath, as possibility crystallized into certainty. Finally—a solution. An end to this endless game of cat and mouse. “I’m done hiding.” She held Abe’s gaze, refusing to flinch. “Hiding has never worked out for me.”

“We are not using you as bait.” Abe carved out each word like granite.

“Abe. It’s my choice.” She captured his battle-scarred hands between hers, smaller but just as determined. “This is my research, my responsibility. I want to help. I want to do this.”

“What if something goes wrong, Freya?” Shadows lived in his expression.

“What if we do nothing and he comes after me, anyway?” she met his gaze, refusing to look away from the hard-set of his jaw. “I could just as easily be hurt waiting for him to make his move. This way, we control the timeline. We choose the ground. We catch him off balance.”

Abe’s chair creaked. “Maybe.”

“It could work.” Leo pulled up a blueprint on his tablet. “We’d have a full team in place. Multiple layers of protection, an airtight extraction plan. Freya wouldn’t take a single step into the Dorchester without complete coverage.”

Abe shoved back from the table, his chair screeching. “I want it on the record that I am extremely unhappy about this.”

Freya turned away, her chest constricted. Her fingers curled into her palms, nails biting into her palms, but she squared her shoulders. She understood his anxiety, but this had to end. She couldn’t hide forever. Her archive had started this. Now she could help end it.

She faced Kat and uncurled her fingers, laid her hands flat on the polished table. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

31

Abe stood under the shower,letting the hot water sluice away the grime of travel. He leaned one palm against the cool tiles, closing his eyes as the steam enveloped him. Here in Fox’s secluded home, hidden from the world, the stress of the last few days eased from his shoulders.

Pen, Fox’s no-nonsense and rather intimidating housekeeper, had shown them to their rooms with forthright efficiency, and Abbie had welcomed them with the quiet warmth that had won Fox’s heart—fresh clothes already laid out and a promise of food whenever they were ready.

But as his body relaxed, his mind raced.

Freya was in the next room.

Fox had driven them through London’s early morning streets to meet Kat Landon, then straight on to his estate. Both journeys, Freya had been beside him in the back seat, close enough that her thigh pressed against his, yet the words from last night hung unspoken between them. With Fox at the wheel, there had been no chance for privacy, no moment to untangle what had changed between them. The need to talk with her alone gnawed at him.

Last night.

He’d always been able to compartmentalize, to lock away distractions when the mission demanded it. It was a skill honed from years as a SEAL, where survival meant precision, and focus was everything. Yet now, Freya’s presence was a constant pull.

What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been with women before—God knows his history wasn’t short on encounters—but Freya was different. The realization hit him harder than he cared to admit, a slow burn in the pit of his stomach.

Mariam had taught him a lesson he hadn’t forgotten—never let anyone too close. After her betrayal, he had promised himself, no more allowing women past the surface. Respect them, yes. Treat them well, sure. But don’t let them in, not to the parts that mattered.

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