Father stared at Daphne like a predator, his cold eyes assessing her from head to toe. The debriefing had gone well—her report on Petrov’s elimination was clinical and thorough, exactly as he’d trained her to be.
“The client was very pleased with the Prague job,” Father said, his voice unnervingly gentle. “Very clean. Very efficient.”
Daphne remained perfectly still, her face a careful mask of neutrality. “Thank you, Father.”
He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. His fingers reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“I think you’ve earned a little vacation for doing such a good job,” he said, his lips curving into what might have been a smile on anyone else’s face. On his, it looked calculated. “Perhaps a week
