Leila's mouth curved into a smile, tilting her head as she moved towards him. "I can't sleep."
Nicolai leaned in to take a long drag on his cigarette, releasing smoke so the air in the hallway appeared that much tighter. "That so? Or are you too busy with Makros?"
She shrugged. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
His sneer increased. "I would, as it happens. You fascinate me, Leila. Most women in your situation crack. But you." He swept her with his gaze. "You're holding on."
She let out a small, breathy laugh. "Flattery, Nicolai? I didn't think you were capable."
"Observation." He snapped his cigarette into an ashtray beside him, moving closer. "You're not just holding on. You're learning to play the game."
For an instant, she wondered if he had the slightest inkling. If he'd seen her through her act. Gosh, she hated the way his eyes screamed we are watching you.
She feigned ignorance, focusing on him. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Not at all." He moved in closer, his voice falling. "But I'd be careful if I were you. Those who learn too much disappear."
Leila looked at him, smiled. "I'll remember that."
She passed by him, her pulse steady despite the hang of his words. She hadn't the time to consider Nicolai's paranoia.
She had work to do.
In next to no time, she was exactly where she needed to be.
Stefanos sat in his usual spot, his own quarters near the east wing, at his desk with a cigarette between his thumb and indexfinger. A glass of half-full whiskey rested next to him. He barely looked up when she entered.
"Is there something you want?" he said, exhaling cigarette smoke.
Leila stopped in the doorway, inserting doubt into her tone. "I. I just needed to speak to someone."
Stefanos finally peered up, frowning. "To me?"
She bit her lip with her teeth, advancing. "I'm sorry."
He shook ash from his tray. "Sorry for what?"
"Don't act stupid, please," she whispered. "Listen, you were the only one who was ever kind to me. When I first arrived here, you weren't like them."
He sneered. "That didn't stop you from offering me up for your own gain."
Leila looked down. "I'm sorry."
A beat of silence. He looked at her, testing the truth of her words.
She stepped close to him, taking his hand. "I shouldn't have reported you to the Don, Stefanos. But what else was I supposed to do? If only you'd waited patiently, played at the game patiently with me instead of trying to take it from me by strength, perhaps I might have considered granting you your desire."
His jaw locked, his knuckles turning white. But he didn't step back.
Leila edged toward him, slow, deliberate. Far enough that he could feel the breeze from her breath on his skin. "I realize now you're the only one who ever treated me kindly. I could use a friend. I'm so, so lonely."
It was a fabrication.
But the truth he wanted to hear.
Stefanos let out a slow breath. "What is it, Leila?"
She stroked his arm with gentle fingers, to his shoulder. "I have to know something."