Page 83 of Stolen Empire
A note is on the table, written in his sharp handwriting.
Check in every hour. Don’t deviate from the plan. –D
I crumple the note and toss it in the trash.
Then I shower, dress, and leave the safehouse at eleven thirty.
The café is twenty minutes away by metro, tucked into a side street near Arbat.
When I arrive, Daniil is already seated at a corner table, a cup of coffee in front of him.
I slide into the chair across from him, folding my hands on the table.
"You wanted to meet."
"I did."
He leans back, studying me.
"How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine."
"You don’t look fine. You look like someone who just lost their job."
I shrug.
"I did lose my job. And debt doesn’t disappear just because Vetrov fired me. I owe him and other people too…"
I'm still selling this entire act, but I don't think it's working.
This sleazy man scares me.
Daniil grins at me in a malicious way as he slides an envelope across the table.
"Payment."
I take the money from him as my cheeks burn.
It feels evil to take it, but if I refuse it on the basis of my obvious moral superiority over this monster, I will break my cover.
"Thanks, but this is hardly enough to pay Vetrov."
"That's why I wanted to talk to you. I have an opportunity—a way to settle your debt and make real money at the same time."
"I'm listening."
"My employer is looking for someone who can move freely. Someone who knows how Vetrov operates but is no longer tied to him. Someone motivated by money, not loyalty."
"And you think that's me?"
"I know it is."
He leans forward, his elbows on the table.
"But before we go any further, I need to know you're serious. I need to know you're willing to do what it takes."
My stomach churns.
