Chapter Twenty Four-The Deal

NADIA POV

She came back the next morning.

I was sitting on the floor of my hotel room. I had not slept. I had not eaten. I had been staring at the door for hours. Waiting. Watching. Listening.

The knock came at nine.

Three slow raps. Calm. Deliberate. Like she knew I was there. Like she knew I was waiting. Like she knew I had no choice but to answer.

I stood up. I walked to the door. I looked through the peephole.

It was her. Eleanor. She was wearing a different coat today. Gray. Elegant. She was carrying the same leather bag. She was alone. No bodyguards. No police. Just her.

"I know you are there, Nadia," she said. "Open the door."

I did not move.

"We can do this through the door if you prefer. But I think you will want to see what I brought."

I did not respond.

"It is evidence. Evidence against the others. Evidence that will help you. Evidence that will end this."

I closed my eyes.

I did not trust her. I would never trust her. But I needed what she had. I needed the name. I needed the proof. I needed to end this.

I opened the door.

---

She walked in like she owned the place.

She looked around the small room. She did not comment on the bare walls. She did not comment on the unmade bed. She did not comment on anything. She just walked to the table and sat down. She set her bag on the table. She looked at me.

"Sit," she said.

I did not sit.

She smiled. A slow, cold smile. A smile that held no warmth. A smile that held only amusement.

"You do not trust me," she said.

"No."

"Good. You should not."

She opened her bag. She pulled out a folder. She set it on the table. She pushed it toward me.

"Everything you need," she said. "Bank records. Wire transfers. Photographs. Names. Dates. Everything."

I did not move.

"Open it."

I walked to the table. I sat down across from her. I opened the folder.

I read the first page.

Then the second.

Then the third.

I read everything.

And then I looked up at her.

"This is not possible," I said.

"It is possible. It is happening. It has been happening for years."

I looked back at the documents. The name. The face. The proof. The person who had been funding Serena. The person who had been helping Eleanor. The person who had been pulling the strings from the beginning.

It was someone I knew.

Someone I trusted.

Someone I never suspected.

"No," I said. "No. This cannot be right."

"It is right."

"No."

"Nadia."

"This is a lie. This is a trick. You are trying to turn me against my own people."

"I am not turning you against anyone. I am telling you the truth. The truth you should have known months ago. The truth that will save your life."

I closed the folder. I pushed it back toward her. I stood up.

"I do not believe you," I said.

"You do not have to believe me. You just have to look at the evidence."

"I have looked at it. It is not enough."

"It is more than enough."

"No."

"Nadia."

"No."

I walked to the door. I opened it.

"Get out," I said.

She did not move.

"Get out."

She stood up. She picked up her bag. She walked to the door. She stopped in front of me. She looked at me. Her eyes were dark. Her eyes were cold. Her eyes were full of something I had not expected.

Pity.

"You are making a mistake," she said.

"I do not care."

"You will."

"I do not care."

She walked out.

I closed the door.

I locked it.

I leaned against it.

I slid to the floor.

I did not cry.

I did not scream.

I did not do anything.

I just sat there.

And I thought about what I had just read.

And I did not know what to do.

---

DETECTIVE HARRIS POV

I called Nadia that afternoon.

She did not answer.

I called again.

She did not answer.

I called a third time.

She did not answer.

I put the phone down.

Something was wrong.

I did not know what. I did not know why. I just knew something was wrong. I could feel it. In my chest. In my stomach. In my bones.

I got in my car. I drove to her hotel. I walked to her room. I knocked on the door.

No answer.

I knocked again.

No answer.

I tried the handle. It was unlocked.

I walked in.

She was sitting on the floor. In the corner of the room. Her back against the wall. Her knees pulled to her chest. The folder was in front of her. Open. She had been reading it.

"Nadia," I said.

She did not look up.

"Nadia."

She looked up.

Her eyes were red. She had been crying. But she was not crying now. She was just looking at me. Like she was seeing me for the first time.

"Detective," she said.

"Yes?"

"I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"I need you to find out if this is real."

She handed me the folder.

I opened it.

I read the first page.

Then the second.

Then the third.

I read everything.

And then I looked at her.

"This is not possible," I said.

"That is what I said."

"It cannot be him."

"It is him."

"No."

"Detective."

"This cannot be right."

"It is right."

I closed the folder.

I sat down on the edge of the bed.

I did not know what to say.

I did not know what to do.

I just sat there.

And for the first time in my career, I was afraid.

---

NADIA POV

I watched him read the folder.

I watched his face change. I watched his eyes widen. I watched his hands shake. I watched everything.

He knew.

He knew the name.

He knew the face.

He knew the truth.

And he did not want to believe it.

Neither did I.

But we had no choice.

"Who is it?" I asked.

He looked at me.

"You know who it is."

"Say it."

He did not speak.

"Say it."

"It is your lawyer."

I closed my eyes.

"Rachel."

"Yes."

I opened my eyes.

I looked at the wall.

I looked at the light coming through the blinds.

I looked at the future I was building.

And I did not know what to do.