Page 95 of Savage Lies

Dmitri’s security consultant is installing equipment in our bedroom while pretending to protect us from government spies, and I’m the only one who knows that Pavel Romanov is FSB.

I watch from the kitchen as he adjusts what looks like a signal jammer on the nightstand, knowing damn well it’s probably a listening device disguised as countersurveillance equipment. The irony would be hilarious if it weren’t so fucked up.

“How’s the installation going?” I call out.

“Almost finished with the bedroom,” Pavel replies. “Then I’ll move on to the office.”

I almost bark out a laugh, but I catch it in time. Every device he’s installing gives the FSB better access to monitor Dmitri’s activities while maintaining the fiction that Pavel is protecting us from government intrusion.

Dmitri emerges from his office with his phone pressed to his ear, speaking Russian. When he spots me in the kitchen, he ends the call and walks over.

“Everything okay?” I ask, though I already know the answer from his body language.

“Just some territory disputes.” He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against his chest. “How are you feeling about all the security upgrades?”

The question carries weight I’m not supposed to understand. He’s testing whether I’m comfortable with Pavel’s presence or if I suspect anything about the real purpose of these installations.

“Better,” I lie smoothly. “Knowing we’re protected makes everything feel more normal.”

Normal. What a joke. Nothing about this situation has ever been normal.

Dmitri’s mouth finds the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and he presses soft kisses there that make my traitorous body respond despite everything I know about him. His touch still affects me the same way it did when I believed I was his wife. Maybe more now that I understand the stakes.

“Pavel should be finished soon,” he murmurs against my skin. “Then we’ll have privacy again.”

Privacy. Another lie. We’ll have privacy—on paper. In reality, every word is theirs. But Dmitri doesn’t know that, which gives me an advantage I’m not yet sure how to use.

“Good,” I breathe, leaning back against him. “I’ve missed being alone with you.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Despite everything he’s done, the psychological manipulation, and the elaborate deception, some part of me has missed the intimacy we shared at the estate.

Pavel appears in the doorway with his toolkit. “Installation complete. All devices are active and providing a full spectrum of protection.”

“Excellent,” Dmitri replies without moving away from me.

“The equipment operates continuously. You’ll have immediate notification of any surveillance attempts.”

“And your reconnaissance tonight?”

“Still scheduled. I’ll gather intelligence on their capabilities and report back in the morning.”

Dmitri and I stand in the kitchen after Pavel leaves, pretending everything is normal while we’re surrounded by devices that are probably recording our every word.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Not particularly.”

“You barely touched breakfast.”

“I’ve had other things on my mind.”

He turns me around so I’m facing him, and his green eyes search my face. “Such as?”

“You. Us. Whether this security situation is as serious as Pavel thinks it is.”

“It’s serious enough that we need to be careful about what we say and do until the threat passes. We should probably limit conversations about business or personal matters to rooms Pavel has secured.”

Which means Dmitri wants to move our important discussions to locations where the FSB will have the best audio quality. The man is unknowingly cooperating with his own surveillance.