That night, she sat across from her father at a quiet corner table in the hotel roof top restaurant. The space was elegant in that understated way expensive hotels managed, white tablecloths, low lighting. Her father had insisted on dinner, just the two of them, a rare moment in-between his meetings until they were tied up. They would have some time at the end of the three weeks.

Nate stood near the entrance, back to the wall, hands loose at his sides. Watching. Always watching. The man was ...