“How do you know this?”

“Because I’ve known him a long time,” he says.

I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. Or that every bit of it is a show. I don’t understand why we’re even putting on a show at all with no one here to witness it. But what confounds me even more than that is how easily I’ve been forgetting that it’s a show at all. Either I’m having way too much fun playing this dangerous game with Victor, or something is seriously wrong with me.

Victor traces my eyebrow with the pad of his thumb and I get completely lost in his eyes.

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask coyly. “You said I’ve been good.”

He lightly kisses the eyebrow he just touched.

“Whatever I want to do with you,” he says in a calm, controlling voice.

He brushes the other eyebrow with the pad of his thumb and traces it along my jawline.

I shut my eyes softly and breathe his scent in, savoring his closeness and trying to force myself not to believe the truth, that none of what he’s saying to me is real.

His lips brush against mine.

“Do you have a problem with that, Izabel?”

“No,” I shudder the word out, my eyes still closed.

But they pop open when Willem Stephens makes his way back to our table.

“For your troubles,” he says, holding out an envelope to Victor. “There is four grand here.”

Victor takes the envelope into his hand and tucks it into his suit jacket pocket hidden on the inside.

Willem Stephens then produces another, more square-shaped envelope from his own pocket and presents it to Victor next. “Mr. Hamburg would like to extend his apologies by inviting you to his mansion tomorrow evening,” he says.

Victor hesitantly takes the envelope, looking at it skeptically and uninterested at first.

“It is a private affair,” Willem Stephens goes on. “I can assure you that if you choose to attend, Mr. Hamburg will make it financially worth your while.”

“Do I appear to need financial assistance in any way whatsoever?” Victor asks, pretending to be offended by the notion.

Willem Stephens shakes his head solidly. “Not at all, sir,” he says. “But one can never have too much. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Victor contemplates it a moment and then reaches out for my hand. I take it and we step out of the booth.

“I will consider it,” Victor says and we leave the restaurant.

~~~

“How did you know that would work?” I ask excitedly the second we get into the Roadster and shut the doors. I can’t contain it anymore. I just hope it’s OK to be out of character now.

“I didn’t,” he says.

“But how—.”

He glances over at me, one hand resting casually on the top of the steering wheel. “All of the tables in the restaurant are bugged,” he says and looks back out at the road. “Hamburg sits up in that private room of his watching guests come and go, picking couples from the crowd first based on how they look. When he sees a couple that piques his interest the next phase is to listen in on their conversation.”

I’m totally understanding it all now.

“But why didn’t you tell me this before we went? I probably could’ve pulled off the acting better if I knew the guy was listening.”

“Well, technically I didn’t know if he was listening. And I didn’t tell you some things because I wanted to see how well you could improvise under pressure and having limited information about what’s going on.”

“That explains your conversation with Fredrik,” I say and his name on my tongue as Sarai opens up an entirely different topic. “If that’s even his real name.” I pause and say with warming cheeks, “He’s not really going to be at our hotel is he?”

Victor’s slow glance is laced with amusement.

“No, Sarai, he’s not going to be at the hotel waiting for us.”

Well, that’s a relief. Yet the thought of Victor….

“So who was he then? Obviously he knew more about what was going on than I did.”

We turn onto another brightly-lit street and pass through a yellow light just before it turns red.

“Yes, his name is Fredrik and yes, he’s really Swedish. He works for my Order, though not doing what I do. He simply aids us in times like these.”

“And the woman, Aria?”

“I’m sure she was just some random woman Fredrik picked up somewhere.” He flashes me a grin. “He’s good at that sort of thing.”

I blush and look away.

“Are you disappointed?” Victor asks.

I look back at him, flustered by his question. And that faint grin is still buried behind his eyes.

“Umm, no,” I say. “Why would you ask that?”

Victor looks back out at the road.

“What, you don’t find Fredrik attractive?”

I think he’s toying with me.

“Well, yeah, I’d be lying to you if I said he wasn’t attractive, but I’m not attracted to him if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I’m attracted to you, Victor, only you….

He smiles and doesn’t say anything more about it.

My face just gets hotter and hotter, and every time I see him smile or grin, because I’m completely not used to seeing that, it just makes me blush more and it feels like a hundred drunk butterflies are having an orgy in my stomach.

“So what’s our next move?” I ask.

“We enjoy the downtime until tomorrow night,” he says.

And that’s exactly what we do.

Victor takes me out to buy a new dress with that four thousand dollars he conned from the manager. We go back to our hotel long enough to change clothes. I gape at him when I see him fully dressed. He wears a slim-fitting gray V-neck cardigan over a long-sleeved white button-up shirt. Very casual, untucked from his dark blue jeans. A pair of black leather lace-up shoes adorn his feet. I’ve only ever seen him wear expensive suits and dress shoes, so it’s a bit of a shock to see him in anything else. Though he still manages to pull off sophistication and wealth, flawlessly.

I wear a silk sun dress and another pair of expensive flat sandals, glad to be out of those painful heels.

We do end up meeting up with Fredrik, after all, though it’s entirely innocent. The three of us go out to a cocktail party on the rooftop of another luxury hotel and although I have to stay in character as Izabel Seyfried the entire time, I get the feeling that Fredrik knows I’m not really the bitch I portray myself to be. I find him refreshing and the longer Victor and I are with him throughout the night, the more I enjoy his company.

It almost feels…normal, like I’ve found some small way to enjoy the things around me like everybody else and to fit in with society. In the back of my mind I know that it won’t last, but at least I’m experiencing it without having to constantly look over my shoulder.

We part ways with Fredrik just after midnight when Victor feels it’s best we get back to our hotel and get some rest. Tomorrow night is going to be very different from this night and it should have me worried. But I’m already playing the game. I’m in too deep, too involved with my alter ego who has had more fun in one night than Sarai has had in a lifetime. I’m anxious and excited for tomorrow to get here, not afraid and having doubts like I think Victor secretly wants me to be.

No, this underground world he’s opening me up to slowly isn’t having the effect on me he had planned.

It’s only making me want it more.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Victor

“Fredrik tells me you had a girl with you,” Niklas says on the phone. “Izabel, was it?”

“Yes,” I answer. “Obviously it was necessary.”

He knows. I’ve never been so divided before. Niklas or Sarai? I feel this dire need to be selective about anything I tell him from here on out. But I can’t lie to him about Izabel and Sarai being one in the same because there are too many ways for Niklas to find out the truth. He likely already has the proof he needs. If I lie to him he’ll know I don’t trust him with her and that could put Sarai in even more danger.