Montez’s sharp eyes narrowed the instant Sergei Yanov’s voice cracked with disbelief. What was going on? Why was he so distraught at the sight of Amira?

“Rosa?” the Russian repeated, as though the name itself was a knife lodged in his throat.

Amira’s blood chilled. She forced her lips into a faint, polite smile, pretending ignorance as if she had misheard.

“Who-who is Rosa?” she asked lightly, tilting her head in feigned confusion. ...