“Feel free to head over to the pool—there’s plenty to eat.”
Only then did Bernard notice the round tables set up in the courtyard and the serving table covered with long white cloths. Four waiters were arranging plates and trays full of food.
“When did you put all this together?” he asked Noud, amazed, when he finally got close enough.
Noud straightened up. Some color had returned to his face, though he still looked a little pale.
“See? I can keep a secret too,” he said. “I can handle things on my own.”
Bernard nodded, impressed.
“I know you’re good at that. It’s just…” He hesitated for a beat. “I don’t get Timothy,” he whispered.
“I didn’t have a choice. Actually, that’s why we had to throw the party. I’m sorry. You know I never would’ve come up with this myself.”
“Yeah, I figured. And the moment I saw him, I knew something was off. Is it really that bad?” Bernard asked, his voice tight with concern.
“This whole mess is part of a deal,” Noud said, making a small circle with his head. “I needed to know what you were doing… or rather,” he added hoarsely, “what you were dragging me into.”
“Does he know everything?”
Noud’s eyes flickered.
“He does. All of it.”
Bernard swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump that kept forming in his throat.
“What do you mean?”
“He’ll tell you.”
“Noud, don’t—”
The conversation was cut short as Viktoria stepped between them. She slipped her arms around both men’s necks, as if they’d always been close.
“Well, darlings,” she purred, “when are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Which friend?” Noud shot back without thinking.
Viktoria leaned in so close her lips brushed his ear.
“The redhead,” she murmured. “You know—the one who just slipped Dajana’s phone back into her bag.”
Noud’s knees buckled. Viktoria’s fingers dug into his shoulder.
“Don’t you dare pass out on me, Noud.”
Her voice cut through his mind like a blade.
“You know,” she went on, “it would be better if that happened sooner rather than later. Because if he tries to stir up any shit around Ted, I swear to God I’ll slit his throat. Ask Bernard whether he thinks I’m capable of it…”