I WAS SO SHOCKED, I didn’t try to struggle. I just stood there, my face tilted up to him, his thumbs rubbing gently along my cheekbones as he kissed me hard and deep.

Christina was having an affair with him! It exploded in my brain like a firework, lighting up everything else. That’s why he’d been glaring at me, ever since I arrived. He thought I’d been ignoring him.

I was coming to my senses now, but I didn’t dare stop the kiss because I had no idea what I was going to say to him when it ended. Now that I was over the shock, I wanted to strangle Christina. I’d known she was evil, but what sort of psycho bitch sleeps with a notorious crime boss... and then cheats on him, right under his nose? Konstantin would kill both of them, if he found out. And now I’d inherited the problem. He could walk through the door right now and catch us kissing and—

I broke the kiss and stood there panting and wide-eyed. “We can’t! It’s too dangerous!”

He put his hands on my waist. “You started this!” he growled.

I stared at him, incredulous. Christina had only been with Konstantin for four months and she’d already seduced another guy? It made me furious... and weirdly, it wasn’t just because I was going to have to deal with it. It felt wrong. Unfair on Konstantin.

God, was I starting to get protective of him?

I put a hand on Grigory’s chest and pushed him back, trying to ignore how hard his pecs were under his shirt. He was good looking, if you went for slightly older guys. But I had to try to cool this down...without making him suspicious. “It’s too risky, with me just back,” I told him. “Give me time.”

I walked him slowly back across the room, all the way to the door. And despite his size and his frustration, he let me do it. I thought back to the kiss: he’d been desperate, but... tender.

This was about more than just sex. He was in love with Christina.

I stared at him, amazed. But it was true: the way his eyes kept going to my lips, the way he alternated between glaring in frustration and looking totally helpless. This big, tough, older guy, the one I’d been so intimidated by downstairs... he was as lovesick as a teenager.

And I knew in my gut that Christina hadn’t loved him in return.

She’d just strung him along, using him for sex, wrapping him around her little finger. And now I’d inherited that power. I’d never had that before, never had a man crazy for me. It made me awed...and humbled. However risky this was, I had to let the poor guy down gently. I couldn’t just break his heart.

“Just be patient,” I whispered, as I guided him out of the room. “We’ll be together soon.”

Before I could stop him, he lunged forward and kissed me sweet and quick on the lips. Then I managed to get the door shut and leaned back against it, sighing in relief. But as I gazed around the room, the relief didn’t last long. I’d had no idea about Christina and Grigory. What else didn’t she tell me?

All I wanted to do was to stay in the bedroom, where I couldn’t run into anyone else and blow my cover. But I had a job to do and I wasn’t going to get evidence on Konstantin here.

I felt ridiculous creeping around the house in a fancy dress so I changed. Most of Christina’s skirts were more like belts, but I managed to find a slate gray pencil skirt that actually came down almost to my knees, although the soft, stretchy fabric did hug my ass and hips a lot. And after a lot of digging, I managed to find a sweater that didn’t have a plunging neckline, a beautiful angora wool turtleneck in rust red.

I took some time to touch up my make-up: Christina always looked perfect and I had to maintain that, even though it took me twice as long as it probably took her. Then I crept slowly downstairs.

I thought Konstantin would be down on the first floor, but by homing in on the deep rumble of his voice, I finally found him on the second, in a room whose door was ajar. I pushed it quietly open….

Everything about Konstantin’s study was old-fashioned. He sat in a big, high-backed, swivel chair, the green leather faded until it was the color of money. The desk looked like something Lincoln might have sat behind, the mahogany so dark with years of polish, it was almost black. In one corner of the room was a black-painted safe the size of a refrigerator, like something that would have held the payroll in the Old West. Konstantin hadn’t seen me yet. He was leaning forward, his elbows on the desk, one hand holding a phone and the other cradling his head. “Da,” he said, nodding. “Da svidania.” Goodbye. He ended the call and sighed, then rubbed the back of his neck with both hands. Only then did he open his eyes. But when he saw me, he didn’t look pleased. He looked shocked.

I pushed on with the plan: I’d comfort him, just like Christina would have, and let him vent all his troubles to me. I started across the room, trying to swing my hips like she did. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Is Ralavich really in New York?”

But he just stared at me as if I’d gone crazy and then gave me a quick, frustrated shake of his head. Reminding me of some rule they’d established long ago.

I froze. Something was horribly wrong. This whole plan relied on the assumption that all criminals confide in their girlfriends. But what if Konstantin was the exception?

I stared into those cold gray eyes and I knew I was right. It wasn’t just that he didn’t love Christina, she wasn’t even his confidante. He was so ruthless, he didn’t share a damn thing with her.

“Sorry,” I muttered, and backed out of the room. Just as I left, I thought I caught something else in his face...and then I pulled the heavy door closed and stood there staring at my hazy reflection in the polished surface. My mission had just become a thousand times harder...and more dangerous. But there was something else.

It bothered me that he wouldn’t share his secrets with me. Even though I was living proof that his secrecy was right, that he should be paranoid...it bothered me. Because I wanted to help him. Sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, he’d looked so alone. And then there was what I’d glimpsed on his face, just as I’d left. He’d been angry but...regretful. As if it was himself he was angry at, not me. As if he wanted to share everything with me but couldn’t.

I pushed the thought away. He’s the enemy! And if he wouldn’t share stuff with me, I’d just have to get the evidence some other way.

I went back to the stairs and carried on down to the first floor. I found a massive ballroom at the back of the house, which must be where Konstantin held his famed parties. There were several lounges, the smallest of which seemed to be permanently set up for poker, a gym and a sauna: I’d heard about how Russians liked their saunas.

I passed through a set of double doors and the whole mood of the house seemed to change. The furnishings were less lavish and more practical, and where the rest of the house felt quiet and echoey, this part was a hive of activity. I realized I’d strayed into the part that I wasn’t supposed to see: the staff area. I saw women wheeling laundry carts around and others carrying trays of food. There was a huge pantry and an even bigger kitchen, where a man in a chef’s hat seemed to be briefing the cooks for the evening meal. When he saw me, he jumped to his feet. “Miss Rogan! Can I get you something to eat?”

He was smiling and seemed friendly enough. But he’d gone pale and his smile was too wide, too forced. Does Konstantin keep them all living in fear?

I shook my head. “No. Sorry. I’ll leave you in peace.”

I passed through a hallway lined with closely-spaced doors. A few were ajar and I could see people lounging on beds, reading or listening to music, like a college dorm. This is where the staff live. God, what must all this cost?

At that moment, a pretty blonde in a maid’s uniform who couldn’t have been more than twenty rounded a corner and saw me. Her face went snow white. “Miss Rogan! Did you ring? I’m sorry! I didn’t hear! What do you need?” She literally ran the rest of the distance to where I stood. “I’m sorry!” she said again.

She was shaking. She was actually shaking.

And I realized I knew her face. She was Christina’s personal maid, the one I’d seen mistreated on the airport security footage. And suddenly I knew why the chef had seemed weird.

The staff weren’t scared of Konstantin. They were scared of me.

“It’s okay,” I said gently. “I didn’t ring. I don’t need anything.”

She blinked and searched my face, confused. Then what are you doing here?

And I realized that what I was doing was wrong. I was meant to be Christina and if Christina kept these people in mortal fear then I had to, as well. I had to snap at her, berate her for nothing at all, and make her cry. I steeled myself—

The maid looked at me, hopeful but scared. A puppy waiting to be kicked.

I couldn’t do it. Not even if it meant arousing suspicion. “I came down here to thank you,” I said. “I don’t do that enough.”

The maid looked doubtful, as if it might be a trick. “You—You’re very welcome, Miss.”

I realized I had no idea what her name was. “Um. Look, I’m really sorry but you’re going to have to remind me....”

“Victoria, Miss.” Weirdly, asking her name didn’t seem to surprise her. Knowing Christina, she’d just called her girl or bitch or something.

“Victoria.” I smiled at her. And she gave me a nervous smile back.

I retraced my steps back to the main part of the mansion and found a staircase that led down. The mansion extended deep underground. The first basement held the guard’s quarters and the armory. Deeper down, I found an underground garage. And below that….

The first warning was the stairs. They changed from smooth concrete flights to a rough stone spiral and the walls went from brick to rock. The electric lights ended and were replaced with candles that barely lit the way. I slowly descended, now deep below the earth. “What the hell is this?” I muttered, just to break the eerie silence. But there was no reply from my earpiece. “Calahan?”

Nothing. I realized that I was so deep, the rock was probably blocking the radio signal. I nearly turned back...but if I wanted to find out Konstantin’s secrets, this seemed like the perfect place to look. I carried on down.

When I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, I was in a room walled in solid rock. There was a door of dark oak, banded with iron, and I hauled it a little way open. God, it must be a foot thick!

As soon as the gap was wide enough, I slipped through.

Oh no.