Page 34 of Sigma

“That would have been rude.”

His smirk is faint, amused. “How mannerly of you.”

“Just following your lead. You’re the politest kidnapper I’ve ever met.”

He arches that eyebrow. “You have met many kidnappers, then?”

I laugh. “No, I suppose not.”

He picks up his fork and resumes eating, pausing after the first bite, frowning. “It’s gone cold. How unfortunate.” He gestures at me with his fork. “Please, finish.”

Even his frown of displeasure is entrancingly beautiful.

As I, rather helplessly, watch him eat, I notice something which disturbs me. “Apollo?”

He looks at me.

“You’ve got…um…blood on your neck.” I touch the left side of my neck. “Here.”

“Oh.” He uses the front-facing camera of his phone as a mirror, wiping the offending droplets away with his napkin. “Hazards of the profession, I’m afraid.”

“Which profession would that be?” I ask, figuring it can’t hurt to fish a little.

He only smiles, a small cold thing. “Nothing you’d like to know about, I’m sure.”

I push the last of my food onto my fork with the knife, considering my words. “Well, I can make some assumptions.”

Finished himself, he leans back in his chair and sips wine. “Do tell.” He extends his legs out past me and crosses his ankles, swirling his wine as an idle gesture.

“You kidnapped me, for one thing. Which means you’re definitely not…well, not above illegal activity, if you operate within the law at all.”

I continue to sit properly, legs tucked under the chair, one ankle over the other, spine straight, shoulders back; I find myself mimicking his idle habit of swirling the wine, just for something to do with my hands, with my nervous energy.

He shrugs, waves. “All right. And?”

Not a denial, but not a confirmation either.

“Furthermore, the way you had me taken was…professional. It was too smooth and too flawless. My…uncle, I guess, I call him Uncle Harry—”

“Nicholas Harris. Yes.”

I pause at the revelation that he knows Uncle Harry’s full name. “Um. Uncle Harry takes care of situations like this—” I point at him and then myself, “professionally. And as my father’s primary assistant, I’ve watched several cases get resolved. So I can say with a certain caliber of certainty that this is not the first time you’ve done this. Snatch jobs like this are expensive. The kind of professional who could get onto our island, past our security, take me without a sound, and leave again without raising an alarm? That guy costs a fortune. Which means you’re very wealthy.” I gesture around us. “This place is evidence enough of that.”

“And what do these assumptions tell you about me, Corinna?”

“My name isRin,” I say, with no little irritation. “And I’m not done. You didn’t hesitate to cut me to prove a point, in the vestibule. You cut my clothes off without qualm. You showed me surveillance camera footage of a former employee caught stealing, and instead of turning him in to the authorities, or firing him and seeking damages, or anything like that, you locked him in a literal dungeon in the basement of yourcastle…after beating him to a pulp. Judging by what I saw, I doubt he’ll survive the night.” I take a drink, then continue. “During dinner, a man with a gun under his suit coat summoned you away with a whisper. And when you return, you have blood on you.”

He arches the eyebrow. “Astute observations.”

“You’re a criminal, Apollo.” I smile, fake sweetly. “You kill people. Judging by the wealth on display, I would guess you deal in either drugs or arms. Possibly people as well, either sexual slavery or prostitution rings—which amount to the same thing.”

He lets out a breath. “You have me all figured out, do you?”

I laugh. “God no, not at all. I can’t make heads or tails of you. What you want. Why me.” I shrug. “I mean, I know why me—my parents. You tookme,knowing who my father is and who my uncle is—and if you know my uncle’s name, you must know what kind of man he is, what he’s capable of. Which means you’re either very certain of yourself, or very stupid.” I make a gesture with my glass. “Or a very unfortunate combination of both.”

“Doyouknow what kind of man your uncle is, what kind of man your father is?”

I consider my answer very carefully. “Does any child truly know their parents?”