"Agent Castillo." He doesn't stand. Power play. "Or should I say Mrs. Kozlov now?"
So he knows about the marriage. Good. That's part of the story we're selling.
"I'd rather you avoid using that name. Agent Castillo is fine. That's who I am and that's what I want to continue being."
"Sit."
I remain standing, but let my hands shake slightly. "I prefer to stand."
"Nervous? You should be. Do you have any idea how many federal agents are looking for you?"
"That's why I'm here." I let desperation creep into my voice. "I can't—I can't do this anymore. The running, the hiding. My mother—"
"Ah yes, your mother. Legal resident, isn't she? Though paperwork can be so easily misplaced, records altered."
I flinch. It's not entirely acting—the threat to my mother makes my blood boil. But Harrison needs to see weakness.
"I want my name cleared and my mother out of this, out of danger. What do you want?" I ask.
"The question is what can you offer me?" He leans back, studying me like a specimen. "You married him. The Ghost."
"It wasn't—I didn't have a choice."
"No?" His eyebrows rise. "He forced you?"
This is the crucial moment. The story we're selling has to be believable.
"Not forced. Not exactly." I sigh loudly and approach stealthily. Then I sit down, still looking cautious, making myself smaller. "He saved my life and took me with him. From that point on everything was... intense. And he became possessive. He was convinced that saving me put me in his debt, that I now belonged to him. And for a while I felt that way too, I believed it, that I didn't have a choice. My training didn't prepare me for that, for the way I feel like he brainwashed me."
"Stockholm syndrome?"
"Maybe. I don't know. Everything happened so fast... I think my nerves at seeing my reputation and years of work compromised and dirty led me to a state of shock..."
Harrison leans forward, interested. "Tell me about him. The real Ghost."
"He's everything they say, everything we thought. Brilliant. Lethal. Completely without conscience." I drop my eyes. "He confessed to me that he’s been watching me for two years. Knows everything about me. He said he fell in love with me after watching all that time how fervently I tried to catch him."
"And you believed that?"
"Have you ever been around someone like him? Someone who looks at you like you're already theirs? Who makes you feel like resistance is pointless?"
Through my earpiece, Mikhail chuckles darkly. "Laying it on thick, little wolf."
"So he convinced you to marry him," Harrison prompts.
"He insisted. Said it would protect me, that being his wife meant no one else could touch me. And that he would help me clear my name." I touch the ring on my finger. "But the last part wasn't true. He had no intention of doing it, nor of letting me go."
"And how did you get out of there? How did you get here? Alive and unharmed."
"Lying. I asked him to help me bring my mother to safety, to let me talk to her and convince her to come with me. I managed to convince him, and when we put the fake plan into motion, I ran. I knew he wouldn't go near my mother with you and the federals watching her to catch me. But now I'm being hunted by him. I betrayed him, and he's going to destroy me for it..." I look up at him with calculated desperation. "I need you. I need your help. I just want my life back."
"And what about your husband?"
I let conflict play across my face. "He's not my husband. He's my captor, a criminal. He managed for a while to make me think differently, to make me depend on him, to make me feel like I had no choice and that he was truly on my side. But he lied to me. He manipulated me and used me. I owe him nothing."
"And what do you plan to do now? What do you expect from me?"
"You have the power and the resources to clear my name and give me back my life. I want to make a trade: all the information I've acquired about him during my captivity, in exchange for protection for me and my mother."
