Page 198 of Lethal Legacy

“Oh, Luce.” She leans her head against mine. “Not really, but thank you for saying that. You always see the best in me.”

“That’s because it’s all true.” I kiss her on the cheek and tuck a stray bit of hair into her coiffure, then fix my own.

I wonder if Ofelia has any idea how stunning she really is. Somehow I suspect that a lifetime of Inger’s harsh criticisms have left her with a very skewed perception of her own beauty and gifts. And privately, I imagine that Matvei’s reluctance to ask her out has a lot more to do with his fear of Roman than of Ofelia rejecting him.

I make a note to remind Roman to go softly on the boy when he comes asking, then feel a painful clench of my heart when I realize it’s unlikely I’ll be around long enough to have that conversation.

“Are you okay, Luce?” Ofelia frowns concernedly at me in the mirror. “Is it Inger? Is that why you disappeared with Roman? Did she say something else awful to you?”

“No, no, darling.” I hasten to reassure her, trying not to blush. “And I’m sorry about what I said in the limo. I shouldn’t have said those things to your mother at all, especially not while you were in the car with us. It was poor behavior on my part.”

“No.” Her face clouds over. She lowers her head, shaking it slowly. “She deserved it. Inger always does that. Always says horrible things, to me or Mickey. And Nikolai...” She looks away, biting her lip.

It’s my turn to frown. The children’s antipathy toward their uncle hasn’t escaped me, particularly tonight, when not one of them so much as kissed him hello. “What is it about Nikolai?” I ask, smoothing her hair back. “Did he do something to you, Ofelia?”

“No. Not to me.” She shakes her head again. “I mean, he doesn’t like me much, but I don’t really care about that. The only person he cares about is Inger. But last summer, when we were on the yacht, he was really weird with Masha. Like, at first, it was kind of sweet—he’d jump in the pool when she had her floaties on and help her swim, or put her on his shoulders when we were onshore in town. But he always had his phone out when she was around. Like,always.It was weird. Mickey and I were pretty sure he was trying to film Masha, or take pictures of her. In the end, Mickey confronted him about it.” She winces. “It didn’t go well. Nikolai completely lost it, and Inger totally blew her top at us both, like how dare we imply such horrible things, blah blah. In the end we came home early.”

“Wait.” I try not to let my fury and disgust show. “Do you mean what I think you mean, Ofelia? Because if so, that’s a very serious allegation—and one Roman should know about.”

“Well, that’s the thing. Mickey and I were going to tell him. But before we did, Mickey hacked Nikolai’s phone to see if we were right. There were photos and videos of Masha on there, but honestly, there was nothing off about them. She was always clothed. Most of the shots were just of her face. And he wasn’t sharing them to anyone. We stayed glued to Masha’s side for the rest of the holiday, but we never caught him trying to do anything. And Masha didn’t seem at all worried about him. She doesn’t like him, just like we don’t, but that’s mainly because he’s all over Inger like,allthe time.” She makes a face. “It’s gross.He’sgross.” She shoots me a sideways glance. “And did you know they were basically together all summer? It was all over the tabloids.”

I hoped she might not have seen those reports.

“You should probably talk to your mother about her private life, not me. But I do think you should tell Roman about Masha.” I don’t like anything she’s just said about that. At all. “He needs to know. Promise me you’ll talk to him about it?”

Ofelia pulls a face in the mirror. “Can’t you talk to him? He always listens to you.” She gives me a rather sly smile. “Especially when you look like you do tonight. He can’t take his eyes off you, which is probably why he pulled you into that office.”

It’s my turn to pull a face. “Ew. Gross.”

“No.” She gives me a small smile. “Actually, it isn’t. Not with you guys.” She dries her hands. “Hey. Did you know there’s, like, an actual towel guy outside the powder room? Like, he hands you a hot towel from a tray before you go back out to the floor.”

“Fancy.” I wink at her.

“Soooo fancy.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m going back to Matvei. Have fun!” She gives me a little wave. The door closes behind her, leaving me in the powder room, staring at the mirror, my heart thudding.

What the hell is Nikolai playing at?I don’t care whether the photographs are innocent or not. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be taking pictures of Masha, to be filming her. Something is off. And damn right I’ll be talking to Roman about it. Whatever else I’m planning to do, I need to make sure he knows about this first.

I open the door onto the wide, carpeted corridor, and the white-gloved doorman proffers his tray, lifting the silver lid. I’m about to decline when I see the writing on the card sitting on the towels.

Take one. Pretend to wipe your hands.

I look up and then, seeing the eye patch, hastily drop my eyes. Hands shaking, I take one of the towels.

“Alexei?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“You have to run. Right now.”

I’m shaking so badly I drop the towel on the floor. I bend down to pick it up, using the moment to try to collect myself. “Is it really you?” I whisper as he bends down beside me, taking the towel from my hands.

“Yes. Stand up, take another towel.”

I slowly do as he asks.

“Listen.” My brother’s voice is low, tense, and full of urgency. “Roman’s real name is Roman Borovsky. He’s the son of Aleksander Borovsky, and he holds the missing key to the vault.”

“What?”I barely manage to get the word out. “No—”

“I don’t have time to explain. The Orlovs know who he is. They know about his fingerprints being the third set on the lock, and they suspect he has the missing key. And now they have all of you in one place. They’re coming for you all. Here, Darya. Tonight.”

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