Claimed by havoc
Tristan hasn’t interrupted me for once; he just stares, studying and calculating, then finally says, “Third possibility.”
I slide the report toward him. “Someone wants you angry.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “I already am.”
I grin, flashing my teeth in an annoying way. “I know. They’re counting on that.”
I stand and walk toward the map hanging on the wall. “Let’s pretend I’m the enemy—I need Russia and Italy to kill each other, I need Tristan Kozlov to invade Italy, I need Matteo De Luca to prepare for war, so…”
I point at Lorenzo’s name. “I resurrect a dead man,” I point at Pavel’s confession. “I leak information,” I point at the transfer, “and I leave Matteo’s fingerprint all over it.”
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