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I give him a look that could melt steel.
Realization hits. I see it in the twitch of his jaw, the way his eyes flick toward the door.
He’s out of bed in a second, wearing nothing but loose pajama pants. He crosses the hall and knocks gently on the bedroom door facing his.
“Tara?” His voice is soft. Too soft.
No answer.
He hesitates, then opens the door.
The bed’s rumpled, but it’s empty. I walk in and open the closet. It’s empty. There’s nothing on the dresser or in the drawers—she’s gone.
Konstantin finds a folded note sitting on the nightstand.
He reads it, jaw ticking, then passes it to me.
Konstantin,
Thank you for helping me. I have to get back to Vegas.
Let me know when you’re back, and we’ll get a burger. My treat.
It’s the least I can do after you helped me get to L.A. and for taking me to my interview.
Hugs,
Tara.
I read it twice. My pulse hammers in my ears.
“Did you know I was coming?” I ask, eyes locked on him.
“Did you send me a message?” Konstantin asks. “I don’t remember seeing one?”
“No,” I answer. “I thought I’d surprise you.”
“That explains you barging into my room.” His eyes flash with something for a second. “Why are you back in the States?”
“Get dressed,” I order. “I’ve got breakfast on the way and we’ll talk then.”
Twenty minutes later, I sit at the penthouse dining table, steam rising from a fresh pot of coffee. I pour myself a cup, forcing calm into every motion. Across from me, Konstantin appears, showered, dressed, and collected.
He serves himself like this is any normal debrief.
It isn’t.
“Any developments?” I ask.
“Nothing new,” he says. “Did you find anything on Lidiya Zorin’s mother?”
“No.” I shake my head, tapping my fingers against the mug. “The Morozovs have their records sealed up tighter than the Kremlin vaults.”
Konstantin nods slowly. “You think we’re veering too far from the mission? Tara’s not with Gavriil anymore. She’s got herUCLA job. She’s moving here. Maybe we should focus on rebuilding Drako Kremlin, and the plans to reclaim Dragunov Territory are on track.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I glare at him. “She’s pregnant with a Mirochin heir. You said it yourself.”
“And you’re comfortable using that?” His eyes search mine. “Leveraging a baby?”