“Interesting.”
That one word is enough to make him uneasy. He reaches for his wine, then seems to remember It’s still the middle of the day and settles for water instead.
I ask, “And you often lunch with his daughter?”
Katerina’s head turns slightly toward me. There is warning in the movement.
I ignore it.
Arkady gives a small, practiced smile. “This is the first proper chance.”
“Proper,” I repeat.
He nods.
Vika jumps in quickly. “Papa thought it would be nice.”
“Did he?”
“Yes,” she says, with the confidence of a woman who is already overexplaining.
Katerina looks at the sky.
“I see,” I say.
“I just want to settle down,” Arkady says.
“A little too late for that,” Katerina mutters under her breath.
That thought settles in my head just as Arkady says, a little too casually, “The old families are all being very careful these days.”
I look at him.
He takes a sip of water and instantly regrets speaking.
Vika frowns. “What does that mean?”
Arkady gives a dismissive wave. “Nothing. Just business.”
But I hear it.
I say, very mildly, “Careful about what?”
Arkady laughs. It comes out thin. “Surely you know better than I do.”
“Try me.”
Katerina is watching me now. Not the performance, not the lunch, not Vika. Just me.
She feels it, too. The shift.
I keep my eyes on Arkady.
“Nothing, nothing,” he says.
But I know that look.
Men like Arkady don’t get spooked by ordinary business. Something is going on, and I intend to find out.
