But I’m tired to the very bone. And his breathing is so perfectly slow and even. And in my heart of hearts, I know this fight was never against him. I was fighting Tarasov, struggling in a way I didn’t, I couldn’t, years ago.
I’m almost asleep when I realize the nightstand lamp is glowing red through my eyelids.
Even tonight, even when I fought like my life depended on it, when I hated my husband more than I have any night since I saidI do, he remembered my terror. He left the light on because I can’t bear to sleep in the dark.
He protected me. He cares.
But he still betrayed my clan, and I don’t know what either of us will do in the morning.
10
COLE
I’m back at my desk before sunrise. I planted trackers in all the Lynch files I opened to Tarasov so I can study the precise path he takes through the data, opening folders, studying documents, surveying the entire trove.
The Russian calls precisely at seven. “Where is the rest?”
“The rest of what?” I ask.
“I told you I wanted access to all Canton Crew records.”
“AndItoldyouI’d need weeks to get in.”
“This is just a record of crypto deals.” He sounds dismissive, like I left him with the crumbs at the bottom of a bag of chips.
“You can track Lynch’s investments in three different coins, daily records of gains and losses.”
“I could do that with a subscription toFinancial Times.”
It’s a good thing we’re having this conversation by phone. Otherwise, I might give in to the temptation to break this asshole’s nose. “FTwon’t tell you what Lynch owns,” I remindhim. “I did what you asked. I got you into his files. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” My finger hovers over the red button to end this call.
“Hang up on me, and your wife becomes front-page news,” he says, as if he can see through airwaves.
“What the fuck do you want?” I snarl.
“What I asked for the first time: Access to the Canton Crew. Everything behind that firewall.”
This is the same problem I’m facing with the blackmail over my indictment. Feed the fucker once, and he’ll never stop begging at the table.
Butthisfucker holds Kate’s reputation in his hand. And I haven’t forgotten the vow I made the day he broke in here, when he couldn’t keep a civil tongue in his head. Pyotr Tarasov will be dead and buried before this game is over.
“I need two weeks,” I finally say.
“You have one.”
“I can’t?—”
“One,” he says. “Or the entire world learns about the exciting adventures of Cyber Fucking Ghost.” He ends the call.
I look up to find Kate standing in the doorway. Her face is pale against her dark gray hoodie, her freckles stark.
“How much did you hear?” I ask.
“Enough.”
“He won’t go public,” I assure her.
“I don’t give a fuck about his going public,” she says, stepping into the room. “You put a ring on my finger, but I am still a Lynch. I’m loyal to my clan, and I swear to ever-lovingGodI’ll tell Da exactly what you’ve done before I let you give that gobshite access to one more bit of Canton Crew data.”
