“Try that little stunt again, Kiara, and you’ll regret it.”
Surprise brightens her features. Then my meaning sinks in. Her face falls as her defenses rise. I can tell by the tension in her shoulders.
Defiant, she flicks her eyes away from mine and huffs out in irritation.
“I mean it.” Resisting the urge to grip her takesstrength.“There’s no guarantee thatI’llbe the one to find you next time.”
Her shoulders relax a little, and her lips press into a tiny, ridiculously cute pout that makes me want to stick my tongue in her mouth.
She squeezes herself tighter, and when she speaks, her voice is pliant and unexpectedly sweet. “Fine. I’ll behave.”
Not gonna lie. Those three words set something off in me.
I never thought I’d be into the eager good girl type, but everything from last night up until right now proves otherwise.
Much too quickly, we arrive back at her room. It’s just as she left it, except her window has been modified to only open an inch.
I forgot how fast the housekeeping staff moves around this place.
Then again, most everyone’s afraid of Finn when he gets angry.
Once she’s inside, it’s time for goodbye. I’ve never been great with those, so I just give her a stern look and another warning.
“Remember what I said.Behave yourself.”
It’s not just for her safety, but my sanity.
She nods. Unspoken words suffocate the air, but there’s no time for me to engage in a deeper conversation about last night’s events, and I’m not even sure what I’d say if I wasn’t in a hurry.
After I leave, I head to the war room on the third floor. I’m dreading what’s about to happen. Nothing can stop it, though, so I steel my spine, push the door open, and walk in.
The second he hears me enter, Finn’s head snaps up. Even from across the room, I can practically see steam funneling from his ears.
My guess? The guy had another rough night, followed by a shit morning, courtesy of me.
Before I can launch into an explanation that might lower Finn’s blood pressure, I notice his father Shane on his right.
Shane sits with the broad, squared shoulders of an army general. His sharp, titanium eyes probe me like I’m a frog to dissect. Finn’s angry, but Shane’s suspicious.
I can’t decide which is worse.
“Come in, Rory.” Shane’s deep voice commands my attention. “I hear there’s a situation with our hostage. Report.”
“Of course.” I stand casually, with one hand tucked into my pocket. Showing even the slightest hint of nerves would be like pouring a bucket of blood into shark-infested waters. “But first, the results of my second round of interrogation.”
Finn looks ready to bite my head off, but Shane raises a hand to keep him quiet.
“What did you find out?” Shane leans forward in his chair.
“At first, we thought she was an art forger, but this goes far deeper than that.” I maintain eye contact with him. “Our hostage doesn’t imitate Libertas. SheisLibertas.”
Finn cuts in almost immediately. “Impossible. She’s a kid.”
“She’s twenty-four.”
I jump in to defend her age so quickly that now Finn’s side-eyeing me too.
He stares at me for several long, uncomfortable seconds before banging his fist on the table. “That painter should befifty-four.”
