Chapter 36

36

Freya sank back into the leather seat, watching England’s green trees flash by as their driver whisked them to the Dorchester.

Hope and fear mingled inside her. Wearing Abbie’s dress, she felt like a different woman. A whole woman, with hard science and actual emotions coexisting inside her.

There could be a middle ground.

Abbie was right. Maybe this could work. Perhaps she could have these two sides: the rational part that thrived on science and the emotional part that loved the man sitting beside her.

Love. A word she had never used in her adult life.

But with Abe, she believed it could be possible. There was no other way to describe the all-consuming way she felt about this brawny, caring man.

Despite her nervousness about what would happen at the Dorchester, she felt confident it would be okay. With Abe at her side, anything seemed achievable. Together, they were unstoppable, stronger as a unit than each on their own.

A sharp trilling interrupted the hum of the car engine.

The driver glanced over his shoulder. “Call for you, sir.”

As he spoke, a partition rose, separating them, a screen embedded in the back of the divider. As soon as it locked in place, the screen flickered to life.

On the other side sat a man in a dark t-shirt that clung to his muscular arms. His keen eyes held no trace of humor.

“Abe.”

“Eli.” Abe turned to Freya. “Eli Bychkov. Leo’s brother and one of our operatives.” He shifted his gaze back to the screen. “Eli, meet Dr. Freya Jonsdottir.”

“Freya.” Eli’s expression was grave. “Abe, take this privately.”

“No time. We’re heading to the Dorchester.” Abe’s brow furrowed, his tone clipped.

“Ah, that explains the dicky bow. Well, I have some video footage you need to see.”

The screen switched to Hellisheidi’s workers’ canteen. Freya leaned forward. There she was with her usual lunch setup. A sandwich, coffee, paperback.

“That’s me.” Hairs rose on her bare arms at the date stamp. “Three months ago.” Someone had been watching her.

What was going on?

Investors bustled through the canteen entrance on screen, money almost dripping from their pockets. “Abe, what is this? Where did this come from?” Anxiety rolled through her, the light and excitement of the evening fading into a queasy knot in her stomach.

One man broke away from the crowd and approached her table. Abe’s hand tightened on her knee as the man cleared his throat and introduced himself as Victor Andreas. In the footage, Freya looked up from her book, displeasure etched on her face. She remembered him now—how he had made comments about Jane Austen and then sat down to share his lunch.

The screen shrank to the bottom left corner, and they were once again facing Eli.

Eli cleared his throat. “I’ve triple-checked this, Freya, but the man you’re speaking to in this clip is?—”

“Ivan Nyx,” Abe growled.

“The very one.” Eli agreed.

“Who’s Nyx?”

“Russian mercenary.” In the dim car light, Abe’s eyes were almost black.

Her stomach twisted. The man had been charming, complimentary even. Had he been reeling her in, manipulating her for information regarding her archive project? “My work is classified. I wouldn’t have discussed anything important.”

“He was getting the lay of the land.” Abe splayed fingers across his mouth. “Likely working for Korolov. Nyx has no allegiances other than money.”

Korolov had been assessing her for months before he made his move. And she had been oblivious. Heat flushed through her, dampening her skin. She’d been used and manipulated.

But anger wouldn’t solve anything.

The footage came from across the room, not from security cameras.Someone in the canteen had filmed her conversation.

“Where did you get this? Who sent it?” She allowed her anger to bleed into her voice.

“An untraceable file. For now. We’ll find out who, but it will take some time.”

Convenient. She clutched the purse. Even Einar couldn’t help—dozens of investors had visited the plant during those months. She’d been a target all along and never known.

Abe huffed a soft breath. “Do you remember what he spoke to you about?”

“A little. Books. The weather.” Her voice grew smaller with each word, her fingers twisting together in her lap. A Russian mercenary.

“Abe, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.” Eli’s voice was calm, but the undercurrent of concern made her stomach sink.

“Agreed.” But when Abe looked at her, his expression was blank and that scared her more than anger.

“That was the only time I ever saw him.” She searched his gaze. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I know, Duchess.” His fingers locked around hers, but doubt threaded through his voice.

“This is proof someone inside was leaking information, then and now. Whoever took this footage is the person we should look for.” Her voice remained level despite the turmoil ripping through her. Don’t break. Not now .

Abe nodded, jaw tight. “Agreed. Our priority is tracking down the individual who sent this.” He said goodbye to Eli and killed the connection.

The screen went dark, reflecting her face in the black glass. Silence stretched between them like a living thing.

He doesn’t believe me.

Abe gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him. She jerked away, but his fingers pressed into her skin—not hurting, just holding.

“This changes nothing, Freya.” There was a ragged edge to his voice she’d never heard before, and his eyes burned with a feverish intensity.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” The whispered confession escaped before she could stop it.

“Believe in this.” He leaned forward, his mouth touching hers with desperate gentleness. “I won’t be duped by some footage.” His lips trailed down the length of her neck to her collarbone, tracing fire in their wake. “You’re the one thing I believe in. Nothing can change that.”

He kissed her then. A hard, punishing kiss that left her breathless and clinging to his shoulders. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with determination. “Now. You with me on this?”

The knot in her chest relaxed. She studied his face in the faint light—this man who could have let doubt poison everything between them. Instead, he was here, holding her like she was something precious and breakable and entirely his.

“I’m with you.” She brushed her word against his lips, the lift of his indomitable smile sending warmth spiraling through her chest. “Always.”