Archer walks around the desk, then leans with his hand on my chair and bends to look at the screen.
“Mr. Ortiz.” He nods, all business-like. “I am Archer Crone. Nice to meet you.”
The world around me goes quiet as my heart starts thudding in my chest.
My face burns.
My mind is a clusterfuck.
And the lump in my throat won’t go away as I stare at my dad on the screen.
He leans back in his chair. This is awkward and all my fault.
“Mr. Crone.” The fact that my father addresses Archer, who is only in his early twenties, so professionally is bewildering. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I can hear a smile in Archer’s voice when he says, “I bet.”
I am afraid to move or say anything when Archer does it instead of me. “Your daughter can talk to you any time she wants. But right now, I would like to have a word with you in private, please.”
Dick.
I want to protest. When Dad nods, I want to scream, because he ismydad, I haven’t seen him in weeks, and if Archer wants to talk to him, he can do so in front of me.
“Miss Ortiz?” Archer’s cunning smile shines down on me when I look up.
Bitch.
I’ll poke his eyes out one day.
“Please.” He motions politely toward the door, and I have no choice but to walk out of the room as calmly as I can, though I wish I had a Molotov cocktail to toss behind me.
11
ARCHER
I love makingthe wild thing mad. Just a glance in her direction as she takes a seat at her desk outside my office, and I have to hold back laughter, seeing her brood. She smoothes her hair with her palm—a calming gesture I’ve never seen her do, but then I don’t think she’s been that angry until now.
Good.
I sit down in the chair and face the screen.
“Mr. Ortiz. I’d like to discuss our business with Aleksei Tsariuk.”
This isourbusiness now. There is no way out of it for him. I am not one to beat around the bush. And definitely not when my island’s safety depends on it. He understands that as well as the fact that his daughter’s safety is in my hands now.
I don’t know why I expected Alex Ortiz to look much older. He is only in his early forties, with close-cut hair, broad shoulders, and several-day stubble. Former Navy SEAL. Former special ops. Former Thailand Counter Trafficking Unit. His background is more impressive than that of most men in my security.
He doesn’t flinch when I bring up Aleksei Tsariuk. Doesn’t wince when I tell him exactly what Kat told me. I see how he received the Distinguished Intelligence Medal for undercover work—nothing gives away his emotions. That’s where Kat gets it from, as well as her skin tone, full lips, and dark wavy hair.
“It’s in both our interests to work closely together,” I finish my short speech. “I can offer the same if not a larger compensation than Aleksei Tsariuk. It’s in my interest to find out if his daughter is here. More importantly—considering he expanded his search—find out if there’re any moles in my security team. Obviously, you will keep your contract with Tsariuk—that will work to both our benefits. But I want to offer you a job in my team or at least request some help, considering your connections.”
The guy doesn’t blink. I feel like I’m talking to a wall.
“Your daughter got a job. Even after I found out why she came to Zion. I have my own interest in that, you understand, and I want you on my side. But if she gets more intel than I would like her to have, she might stay on Zion long-term.”
I smile politely. He doesn’t. It sounds like blackmail.
He needs to say something. Moreover, he needs to understand that I’m not dangerous like Tsariuk. I’m a businessman.