Page 88 of Stolen Empire

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I can't think straight, too many thoughts coming all at the same time.

The numbers blur together in my mind.

Forty million.

More work.

Better pay.

It’s too easy.

Too simple.

But I can't figure out why.

My thoughts are scattered, my focus fractured.

"Why me?" I ask, my voice slurred.

"Because you hate him. Because he threw you away. Because you want revenge as much as we do." Daniil stands, dropping a few bills on the table to cover his coffee.

"You have until tomorrow night. Deliver the message, then call me. I'll have your money ready."

He walks toward the door, pausing to look back at me.

"Don’t fuck this up, Katya. This is your only chance."

Then he's gone, and I'm alone at the table with my head pounding and my heart racing too fast.

I pull out the burner phone, my fingers clumsy.

I need to call Dimitri and tell him what happened.

But my hands won't cooperate.

The phone slips from my grip, clattering onto the table.

I pick it up again, forcing my fingers to work, and dial his number.

It rings once.

Twice.

Then his voice comes across the line, clipped and angry.

"Where are you?"

"The café," I manage. "Daniil… he made me?—"

"Made you what?" His voice sharpens.

"Talk to me, Katya."

"Drugs. He made me do drugs." The words tumble out, barely coherent.

"He had a gun. I could not—I couldn't say no."

There's a beat of silence and then he says, "Are you hurt?"

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