My knuckles still throb beneath the bandages I hastily applied less than thirty minutes ago. But it’s nothing compared to what the informant is feeling. When the man refused to give me any information, I told Taras to take care of him.
So if he isn’t dead yet, he will be soon.
The receptionist glances up from her computer with a practiced smile. “Welcome to Aster Fertility Solutions. Do you have an appointment?” She’s initially professional, until her eyes meet mine—and recognition dawns.
When she realizes who I am, the transformation is immediate. Her polite smile morphs into something knowing. Almost gleeful.
“Mr. Safonov, isn’t it?” She stands and extends her hand. “I’m Camille, Olivia’s office manager, nurse, and occasional therapist.”
I take her hand, glancing around for Olivia.
