AIRIANA kept her head down and her body close to Maxim Prakenskii as they walked past the leering men on the cargo ship. Maxim had a firm grip on her arm, so tight she knew she would bear the mark of his fingers for several days or weeks to come. He gave her no chance at all to leap overboard or beckon the wind.
She felt the contempt and apathy of the sailors as they walked past. No one tried to stop Maxim or ask him questions, and part of her was very grateful for the fact that he appeared so scary. She wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to have anything to do with the man. Still, in spite of everything, he made her feel safe in an unsafe situation.
The ship creaked and swayed in the swells of the ocean, and she knew it was only Maxim’s tight hold on her that kept her from falling on her face in front of everyone. The men working aboard the ship seemed suspiciously used to prisoners being brought aboard. She couldn’t help but think about Elle Drake and how scared she must have been.
Maxim took her right past the crew and down to a second level into a narrow hallway. They’d gone only a couple of steps when a man wrapped in a velvet robe blocked their way. Maxim pulled her up short. Her breath caught in her throat, in her lungs, until she wanted to scream in fear.
“Maxim. What delicious little morsel have you brought to me?”
Her heart sank. The man looked to be easily fifty, perhaps sixty, and was certainly of Middle Eastern origin. He reeked of money, a man used to getting exactly what he wanted at all times.
“Prince Saeed, I had no idea you were aboard.”
The prince looked her over, his gaze greedy, bright, like a child staring at a new toy. Airiana knew she looked far younger than she actually was, and this man was looking for young.
“Is she still a virgin?” The prince licked his lips. “I prefer virgins.”
“This one is already taken, I’m afraid,” Maxim said. “Bought and paid for, I’m told. I’m just the deliveryman. I don’t deal in women. You know that.”
“But she’s so perfect for me,” the prince insisted. “You know I can pay. Double what you’re already getting. I’ll have the money wired to your account.”
“She’s not a gun—or a target.” Amusement took the sting from his refusal. “I deal in weapons. I’m sure the captain has someone else for you.”
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “She’s the one I want.” He reached to touch Airiana’s hair.
Maxim thrust her behind him, all friendliness vanishing instantly. He gave off the feeling of absolute danger. “It would not be in your best interest to put your hands on this woman. I gave my word to deliver her safely, and as you know, I am a man of my word.”
Airiana tangled her fingers in the back of Maxim’s shirt, terrified that the prince might persuade Maxim or the captain to hand her over.
The prince stood utterly still. “I am not a man you want for an enemy.”
Maxim shrugged. “Move aside. We can continue this discussion at a later date if you desire. You know how to get in touch with me.”
Saeed shoved open the door to his luxury cabin, and Airiana glanced inside. There was blood on the sheets. A small girl lay across the bed sideways, her head hanging over the edge, eyes wide open and glassy.
Maxim caught Airiana and yanked her to the other side of his body, beneath his shoulder, keeping his bulk firmly between her and the sight of the broken child. Her heart stuttered and a tremor seized her body. She couldn’t stop shaking once she started.
Maxim glanced down at the top of her head. “You can do this. Be strong for a few more minutes. Keep walking.”
She wasn’t certain she could. Her legs felt like spaghetti, weak and wobbly and nearly impossible to control. Pride—and his death grip on her arm—kept her moving more than anything else. Her stomach lurched and she feared she might throw up.
“Airiana, these men won’t touch you.”
It was a decree. A promise. Even if it was true that he was somehow on her side, how could one man fight his way through all those men with her in tow? Again, where would they go? They couldn’t fling themselves into the sea. But she went with him. What else was there to do? She couldn’t stand the sight of all those smug men with their disgusting leers and snide smiles.
“This ship is used to traffic women, isn’t it?”
“One of the two that I know of. That’s why they have the luxury cabins on board. Not for eccentric, rich travelers who want to ‘rough it’ on cargo ships, but for clients who pay large sums of money to do as they wish for their time at sea. Bodies are easily disposed of here.” His voice was grim. “The women and children brought aboard these ships never live long. Evan Shackler-Gratsos owns both. He and his brother conceived the idea some years ago. Business is brisk.”
There was no mistaking the stark honesty in his voice. He was either the best actor in the world or he really despised those on board. Still, the information, honest or not, didn’t make her feel any easier. She was now a prisoner on board a vessel at sea where women and children were given to men to do as they pleased and then murdered and thrown overboard. This had been the information Elle Drake had gone undercover in order to find.
Airiana bit her lip hard and tried to fight back the burn of tears. It did no good to cry. She had to think, to not give up hope, but right now, all she wanted to do was get away from the horrible stares as they continued to make their way through the ship.
He took her down another set of steps, through a narrow path and thrust her into a small room. The cargo ship might have a few luxury cabins for nefarious reasons, but thankfully, this wasn’t one of them. She stumbled to the cot and sank down on it the moment he let her go. For one terrible moment she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs burned, her throat, her eyes. She covered her face with her hands and allowed herself to crumble into a tiny ball, pulling in her knees to her chest, fighting panic.
She understood Lexi’s panic attacks so much better. She was helpless. Entirely at someone else’s mercy. Surrounded by enemies, she knew life would never be the same again even if she survived. She’d been taken from her home, and she’d never feel entirely safe again—just like her youngest sister.
Maxim Prakenskii sighed as he stood with his back to the hatch, observing the young woman as her emotions overcame her. He much preferred her anger to her tears. He could take her defiance far better than her breaking down. He knew it was momentary, Airiana Solovyov—and whether she liked it or not, that was her legal name—had backbone. She wasn’t going to stay down long.
She was . . . unexpected. Clearly she was an element, bound to air as he was. He had a plan for getting her off the ship—but she wasn’t going to like it. She didn’t believe that her father had sent for her, and he couldn’t really blame her. It didn’t much matter if she believed him or not—he would take her to Solovyov and be done with it.
But damn it all. Just damn it. He hadn’t expected to like the woman. Or feel like a first-class bastard for hitting her. He had done so for her own safety, and yet he still felt like a bully. She would have killed all of them, which was a gutsy move he admired. And why the hell did she have to be so small? She was a toothpick. Barely there. Which made striking her equivalent to hitting a child.
“Damn it, woman,” he snapped. “Stop crying. Are you hysterical?”
“Maybe.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow and her hands. “What if I am? Are you going to offer to slap me for my own sake?”
He winced. The woman knew how to strike a death blow. Or at least go for the jugular. “If you keep it up,” he threatened, knowing it was an empty threat. In his entire life he’d never had the inclination to gather a woman up, cradle her against his chest and rock her just to soothe her—until now. He wasn’t that kind of man, and he never would be, so why was he fighting to stay leaning his hip casually against the door?
She lifted her head just an inch or so out of her hands and glared at him through the wild tangle of her hair. “You’re a real bastard, did you know that?”
“Well, pull yourself together and I won’t have to be. I’m risking my life to save your very fine ass. The least you could do is help me out.”
She sat up slowly, pushing the heavy fall of hair from her face, all the while giving him the death stare. “You kidnapped me, in case you’ve forgotten. I was doing quite well until you came along.”
His eyebrow shot up. There in the close confines of the small room, all he could do was smell the faint peaches and vanilla scent her skin and hair seemed to give off. He’d noticed it the first time he’d slung her over his shoulder and again in the helicopter, sitting beside her.
He swore to himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d agreed to help Theodotus Solovyov because his brother Gavriil had asked him to. Gavriil had risked his life to save the physicist and in fact had been stabbed seven times during the attack on the man who had designed Russia’s defense system. The attack had effectively ended Gavriil’s career and put him on a hit list now that he was no longer of use.
Gavriil actually liked Solovyov, and Maxim had come to understand why. When the physicist had gotten word to Gavriil, the only man he trusted, that he was in trouble, Gavriil had sent for Maxim. Maxim had gone in his older brother’s place. Gavriil was still recovering from his horrendous wounds, and in any case, he was a marked man. He didn’t dare go anywhere near Solovyov.
The Prakenskii brothers had learned to trust no one outside of each other. There was always the chance that Solovyov might help set Gavriil up for the kill. Maxim had no compunction about killing Solovyov if the man had betrayed Gavriil, but instead, he found himself on a mission to save the physicist’s daughter—a daughter who had no idea who she was.
“Do you really believe that if I hadn’t been with the others you would have gotten away from them?” Maxim asked.
She sat up straighter. It didn’t help. She looked small, fragile and bruised. Beautiful. Ethereal. He swore to himself again. His fingers itched to push those few stray strands of hair she’d missed from her face.
What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t notice every detail about a woman the way he did her. Somehow, maybe their common element or the fog had bound them together, because he felt her inside of him. Stamped into his bones. Just like the air filled his lungs and seeped into his pores, she had come with it, twisting her way inside his brain and his body.
“Yes. I think I could have eluded them,” Airiana said truthfully. “They couldn’t have manipulated the fog. Or read it. They wouldn’t have known where we were.”
“And what then, Airiana? What do you think they would have done next?”
She frowned at him, tilting her head so that her hair fell around her face like a living silken cloak. He couldn’t take it one second longer. He stalked across the room and pushed those silky strands of platinum hair from her face with his fingers. Silver. Gold. Platinum. Her hair was the most unique color he’d ever seen.
“I don’t know what you mean. What next? They would have left.” She didn’t pull away from him, but held herself very still.
The moment those silken strands slid through the pads of his fingers and whispered against his palm, he knew it was a mistake to touch her. His fingers closed around the strands, holding them in the exact center of his palm. He felt her heart beat. Contract. Pound. He felt the air catching in her lungs. In his. He stared into her eyes—eyes so blue he felt as if he might be pulled into them and be lost soaring through the skies.
A frisson of awareness—of alarm—traveled down his spine. Abruptly, Maxim opened his hand, allowing her hair to drop away. He stepped away from her, dark suspicion rising. He didn’t feel for others, emotion had been taken from him long ago. He was a machine, not flesh and blood. He couldn’t be hurt. Couldn’t feel compassion. He suppressed even the flashes of anger that had never quite been beaten out of him when he was a child.
This . . . this made no sense, and anything that wasn’t logical to him was dangerous. “You can’t believe that. They would go into town, snatch one of the women sharing your farm and hurt them until you begged them to come get you.”
His voice was harsh, far crueler than he meant it to be. He knew she had found her mother cut into pieces, tortured and left on her bed for her to discover. He had just conjured that vivid nightmare up for her all over again. He could see it on her face.
Maxim was disgusted with his behavior. Nothing threw him, and yet this small slip of a woman had done so without even trying. She hadn’t acted seductive or flirtatious. She had fought valiantly, even managing to score a couple of times against him. He found himself inexplicitly drawn to her. Worse, when he was close to her, like now, he could barely think straight.
He stepped backward until he was once again resting his hip against the door. He knew he wouldn’t give himself away with his facial expression. He looked confident, cool and casual leaning there, but every instinct he had was on full alert. Every cell in his body was coiled and ready for a fight.
Tears swam in her sky blue eyes and his heart squeezed down like a vise. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed not to press his palm over his chest. “Damn it,” he swore at her between clenched teeth. “Stop with the tears.” She had to stop. He felt a little desperate. Tears weren’t supposed to affect him in the least. They never had before.
Airiana blinked rapidly and drew back further into herself, but her chin went up, and he felt the breath ease in his lungs.
“I didn’t think about that,” she said in small voice.
“You deliberately led us away from the other woman with you,” he said, his tone much more gentle. “I knew she was there, but you felt protective of her. You didn’t want anyone to get their hands on her. I’m guessing it was the younger one. She manages the farm. Lexi Thompson.”
He’d done his homework as soon as he became aware Ilya, his youngest brother, had settled in Sea Haven, and then Lev, his second to youngest brother, had supposedly drowned there. The Prakenskii brothers had a way to get word to one another. It wasn’t used often because they didn’t dare chance that their communication could be compromised, but Lev had checked in using that route. He was alive and married to one of the women who owned the farm with Airiana. One of Maxim’s older brothers, Stefan, had also let the others know he was alive and married to another of the women owning the farm.
Maxim had immediately done extensive research on the farm and the women who owned it. He knew more about Airiana than she appeared to know about herself.
“Lexi’s very fragile,” Airiana said, her voice tight with emotion, but she didn’t allow tears to spill over. “Thank you for not grabbing her as well.”
“It’s going to be a tough job getting you off this ship, let alone two of you. I knew I could protect you, but you see how these men are. You know what this ship is all about. Bringing a second woman on board would only double the danger.” As it was, knowing Prince Saeed was there had already compromised everything, because he had no intention of leaving the man alive.
Airiana let her breath out slowly. She nodded, twisting her fingers together so tightly her knuckles turned white. He had to resist the urge to lay his hand gently over hers to quiet that telltale movement of distress.
“Why do you think I’m this Theodotus Solovyov’s daughter?”
“He told me. He has pictures of you from the time you were born as well as a box of letters from your mother. Hundreds of letters. He treasures every one.”
“You expect me to believe my mother had a secret life, one I didn’t know about? She didn’t take trips to Russia, and believe me, when I say our family was investigated thoroughly, I mean by the United States government. They would have found a connection to Russia.”
“They did find it eventually, but they already had you in their school and they didn’t want to give you up. Marina Ridell was born Marinochka Venediktov. She had an incredible mind, and I suspect she was also bound to an element, probably air as you are. She had no brothers or sisters and her parents were killed in an accident when she was eighteen. She was attending Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology and she met Theodotus Solovyov there when she was at her most vulnerable.”
Airiana pressed her lips together and blinked several times. He held his breath, afraid the fresh flood of tears on her lashes would fall, but she controlled herself, and he exhaled. She didn’t belong in his world, she was far too sensitive.
“She was young and grieving and was drawn to him probably because he had such a brilliant mind and could discuss subjects she was interested in intelligently. He was older and very taken with her. The combination was . . . impossible to resist.”
Maxim kept his gaze burning over her to catch every nuance. Body language told him a lot about his opponent. She wasn’t adept at hiding her feelings. She wasn’t even trying. She didn’t want to believe him, but she was beginning to in spite of herself.
“He was married.” Airiana made it a statement.
“Yes, he was married,” Maxim admitted. “His wife, Elena, was not a nice woman, and he was lonely. Your mother and Theodotus met at the wrong time for both of them. They fell in love. Elena had no desire to carry on a conversation with Theodotus, she could barely understand what he did, but Marina was just the opposite. She cared nothing for money but craved conversation and closeness with him.”
Maxim heard footsteps coming down the narrow corridor. At once he was on Airiana, nearly leaping across the small space, slamming her back on the mattress. “Scream. Scream loud.” He kept his voice a thread of sound between them, hoping she would understand.
She stared up at him in horror, those sky blue eyes shocked and bruised. Deliberately he caught the wealth of wild blond hair in his fist, pulling her head back so that he stared down into her terrified eyes. “Scream,” he instructed again. His voice was harsh, his grip brutal. He was afraid he would have to go further.
Airiana obeyed, her cries very real, terror so close he could feel it coming off of her in waves. The footsteps had stopped outside the door to the cabin.
His mouth came down on hers, effectively cutting off her scream in midcry so there could be no mistaking what was happening inside the room. One part of him remained on alert, listening for the sound of receding footsteps—or a stealthy entry. Another part of him was caught in a firestorm of pure feeling. Her mouth was soft and tasted as good as she smelled.
Like his brothers, he’d been trained in the art of seduction and how to please a woman, but he was too rough, too distant to ever be effective at that particular skill. Kissing Airiana was different, and he felt that difference immediately. His mouth gentled, his hands relaxed a bit. Sadly, for both of them, it wasn’t all show.
His teeth nipped at her lower lip. “Struggle,” he instructed, keeping the thread of sound between them. “Struggle hard enough that they can hear you.”
She nodded, some of the panic receding. She kicked out, punched at him, the sounds of the blows audible in the small confines of the room. He amplified them a bit, added a grunt and slapped his own thigh hard. She cried out, and he stopped the sound again in midcry, his mouth covering hers.
Her hands went to his shoulders, holding on, anchoring herself there. He couldn’t say she responded—she didn’t—but she didn’t pull away either. He kept kissing her over and over until the footsteps receded.
The moment he was certain the intruder had retreated down the corridor, he lifted his head and gently pulled her into a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”
She touched the back of her hand to her mouth and shook her head, her sky blue eyes enormous. “No. But you scared me. You move so fast, and when you do, you look terrifying.”
His smile was slow in coming. Hers was even slower in answer. Her smile was tentative, but genuine. He brushed her hair back with gentle fingers. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I didn’t have much choice.” Her smile widened, lighting up her eyes. “I did think about bringing my knee up very hard into your groin, but then I realized you could have attacked me the moment we entered this room.”
“Good girl. Keep thinking like that. We may need your fighting skills before we’re out of here.”
The powerful engines vibrated throughout the ship as they cut through the waters fast, taking them farther from all help.
“That little girl was dead, wasn’t she?” Airiana asked, sobering. “The one in Prince Saeed’s room. She was dead.”
Maxim nodded his head slowly. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Saeed’s been a problem for everyone, and unfortunately he has enough money to buy several countries as well as just about anything else he wants. There’s always going to be someone willing to get children for him as long as he pays what they want.”
“That’s sick.”
“Yes, but men like Saeed find places like this ship and men like the owner who provide for him.”
“How does he know you?”
“I’m an arms dealer and he buys weapons and ammunition from me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I see.”
“There are very few things our countries are in agreement on, and Saeed as well as those providing for his proclivities is one of them. We sent the U.S. information in the hopes that they could shut down this operation, but sadly it failed.”
Airiana was certain she knew why. Elle Drake had gone undercover in an effort to find out just who was behind the human trafficking ring, and she’d been taken prisoner. Elle’s family and fiancé had rescued her, but Stavros Gratsos had wanted her back.
Maxim’s brother had also been working undercover as well, as a bodyguard to Stavros. He had been unable to keep Elle from being taken the first time. Eventually the yacht he was on with Stavros had sunk off the northern California coast.
Maxim was no arms dealer. Well, he might be. But if so, his reason was not money.
She scooted across the bed to lean her back against the wall, drawing her knees up tight. Her heart still pounded a little too fast. Her breath still burned in her lungs. She had to struggle to stay cool. No one had ever kissed her in her life. She didn’t have boyfriends. She didn’t date. Did everyone react to kisses the way she’d wanted to?
She didn’t want to think about how she forgot, just for a moment, that his kisses were fake and that he might be an enemy. She was ashamed of herself, but still, fake or not, it was her first kiss. She couldn’t imagine what he thought. She was totally inexperienced and probably had been awful, while he’d been . . . enough to sweep her away from this horrible ship and the circumstances she faced.
She took a deep breath and lifted her head to look at him again. She was beginning to trust him and that might be the biggest mistake of her life. Still, he was all that she had. “When you get me off this ship, is there a way to get the other women and children off as well?”
Maxim couldn’t look into those blue eyes and lie. Or maybe he didn’t want to. “No. It would be impossible. I will, however, do my best to have someone standing by to rescue them.”
“How can we just leave them here?”
At least she’d said “we,” not “you,” and he was grateful she was identifying with him. “It’s called not having a choice. My first priority has to be you.”
He had plans. Saeed had been a target for a long time. Twice he’d met with the man in the hopes of creating an opportunity to kill him, but Saeed surrounded himself with too many bodyguards to make a clean exit possible.
Saeed’s presence aboard ship was unexpected and Maxim was not going to pass up the opportunity to execute him, especially after seeing the young girl dead in his room. No doubt he already had another one. The thought was sickening.
“The way we’re leaving the ship it would be impossible to take anyone else with us. We’re diving and meeting a small sub.”
Her head jerked up. Both hands went to her hair, shoving it from her face, horror in her eyes. She began to shake her head. “No. No way. I can’t dive. I don’t know how to dive. Rikki dives. I just sit and admire the ocean from shore. Water is not my friend.”
He found himself smiling again at the absolute resolution in her voice. “Water is not your friend? Did you just say that?”
“I really don’t swim.” She shook her head adamantly. “I’m afraid of the water.”
He could tell the confession was difficult for her. The words sounded strangled and she blushed admitting it to him.
“I never learned,” she added. “I was in a boarding school and they didn’t have luxuries like swimming pools. We certainly never had one at home. My mother didn’t swim. She was afraid I’d drown.”
“You won’t drown. You’ll be with me.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound? Of course I’ll drown. What part of ‘I can’t swim’ don’t you get?”
He shrugged. “I’ll tuck you under one arm and do the swimming.”
“Do you expect me to use a tank to breathe?”
“We could do mouth-to-mouth if you prefer.”
She glared at him and then reluctantly began to smile. “You’re really impossible to argue with. You have an answer for everything.”
“That’s our only exit. We have no choice. When you have no choice and it’s life or death, you do it,” he pointed out.
“I suppose so.” She was silent a moment, rubbing her chin back and forth on top of her knees. “Do you know who tortured and killed my mother?” She looked up, her gaze colliding with his.
He shouldn’t have been surprised that she would just come out and ask, but he was. Solovyov had quietly investigated Marinochka’s murder. Solovyov had confided in Gavriil that he had his suspicions that it had been his wife, Elena, who had tipped off the U.S. government that Marina Ridell was not who she claimed, and then when the young woman hadn’t been arrested, Elena had arranged for her murder. Solovyov wanted proof before he confronted Elena. No proof had ever been established, but Elena had betrayed her husband and arranged for him to be murdered as well and his work stolen. Fortunately, Gavriil had saved Theodotus’s life, but Gavriil had nearly died. Stefan, another Prakenskii brother, had found Elena. There was no asking her questions now.
“There was no proof, but your father’s wife was suspected. She sewed a microchip containing his work into his coat and then arranged for him to be ambushed.”
“Did anyone question her about this?”
“She’s dead.”
Airiana twisted her fingers in one of the many holes in her jeans while she thought that over. “Why didn’t he contact me after his wife died? Why wait until now?”
Of course she would ask the pertinent questions—she was too intelligent not to, but she was very nervous. She had to have a lot of questions running through her mind, and he doubted if he could answer most of them.
“He was tipped off that you were in danger and he asked me to come and get you.” He watched her face carefully. Her fingers continued to pluck nervously at the white strings around the holes in her jeans.
“I want to go home.”
He nodded. “That’s understandable.”
“But you won’t take me there.”
“I promised your father I’d take you to him first. He wants to meet with you.”
She brought the pad of her thumb to her mouth and bit down with her small white teeth. He wished he could read her mind. The middle of his palm itched and he rubbed his hand down his thigh to rid himself of the persistent and very annoying irritation.
“So my father—and you—believe my mother was tortured and killed because my father’s wife was jealous?” A storm gathered in her sky blue eyes. “That’s what the two of you want me to believe.”
Damn. Why did she have to be a smart woman? He shrugged, keeping his features expressionless. “As I said, there was no proof, but certainly Elena was capable of such a thing. Theodotus was devastated both for himself and for you.” Everything he said was absolutely the truth. He used a low voice filled with conviction.
“You said Theodotus Solovyov was a physicist?”
Solovyov’s career was public knowledge. Maxim didn’t have to make up anything at all. Now he felt he was walking on eggshells with her. He nodded his head slowly, trying to figure out where she was going with her questions. “Yes, he’s a very brilliant physicist.”
“He wasn’t, by any chance, developing a brand-new defense system, was he?” Her voice was innocent. Too innocent. “Was that on the microchip? The stolen one? The one that ended up with Jean Claude La Roux?”
His heart jerked in his chest. “How the hell would you know something like that?” He stepped closer to her, feigning anger. He knew exactly how she had gotten that information. Stefan had sent the chip back to his handlers before he disappeared, and had become Thomas Vincent, the art dealer. Stefan was married to one of the women on the farm. Information like that could get her killed.
Her lashes fluttered. She shrugged. “This man, Solovyov, he kept no other records, did he? He wiped out everything to protect his work. It was too important. And now it’s gone.”
“What are you implying?”
“You know exactly what I’m implying. This whole thing is an elaborate setup. Do you really think I’m so stupid I’d buy into it all? My father suddenly surfaces after all these years and sends you to protect me. Wow. His jealous wife, after waiting sixteen years, hunts down my mother and murders her. Why wait all that time? She woke up one morning and decided, hey, today might be a good day to murder my cheating husband’s mistress from sixteen years ago even though she’s in America and hasn’t seen my husband in all those years. How very neat and tidy for you and dear old dad.”
She had a sharp tongue on her, but he still couldn’t help but admire her. “It didn’t happen quite like that.”
“No, of course it didn’t.”
“Marina was brilliant, as is Theodotus. Their daughter inherited their intelligence. It’s well documented. Marina was proud of you and she sent your accomplishments to your father. What mother wouldn’t? He has pictures of you from every year of your life as well as various letters from universities anxious for you to attend their school.”
“Don’t you dare accuse my mother of betraying her country.” Now the storm clouds swirled turbulently. “She would never take money from anyone. She wasn’t like that, and you’ll never, not in a million years get me to believe she did. She wasn’t a traitor. There was never any money.”
“She was a citizen of Russia, not the United States. Her loyalty was to Russia. You’re right, Airiana, there was never any money in exchange for information. She sent your work to your father for love. Loving you. Loving him. For pride. Her pride in you. She wanted him to feel that same pride. She didn’t believe she was doing anything wrong. She was a mother who loved her daughter and her daughter’s father. That same father who sent me to protect you from Evan Shackler-Gratsos.”
She closed her eyes, but not before he saw the blow he’d struck her. She had been convinced Marina had never sent her work to Russia. If he was telling the truth, then Marina had betrayed the United States.
“So who murdered her?” Airiana asked again in a low voice.