Page 84 of Hunt Me, Daddy

“To me?”

“Yes,” I said, because she deserved at least that much honesty. “But not the way Orlov is.”

She inhaled slowly.

“Stay inside,” I said again. “Please.”

That last word cost me more than every command before it.

“All right,” she said, her voice changing just the slightest bit.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

“I wasn’t thanking you for obedience.”

“Careful, Morozov.”

“I am.”

“No,” she said, and there was something almost soft beneath the steel. “You’re thorough. Not careful.”

I closed my eyes. My own words, thrown back at me.

Beautiful girl.

“Go to bed, Kit.”

“Good night, Ivan.”

“Good night.”

She did not hang up immediately and neither did I. For three breaths, we stayed there, connected by silence, danger, and the first piece of truth between us.

Then the line went dead. I lowered the phone slowly.

On the monitor, her apartment window remained dark.

I had bought a smaller window and given her a partial truth. It would not be enough. Not for long. Kit would test the edges of it the moment the shock cooled. She would ask better questions. She would dig in places I had not yet prepared to expose. She would come at me with everything she had, and if I handled her badly, she would run straight toward the threat just to prove she still could.

She needed more than warnings.

She needed more than information.

She needed a line.

She needed consequences.

She needed someone who would not let her turn grief into a suicide note with better formatting.

I picked up her pen and slipped it into my jacket pocket. Then I opened a clean channel to Sergei.

Me:She knows enough. Orlov has been redirected. Keep two men near her block. Invisible. No contact.

His reply came quickly.

Sergei:Does Maxim know?