“I’ve seen enough of your playgrounds. This is just another.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “It’s boring. I’m ready for a new start.”

“But I’m not. I prefer to linger awhile before I show you the place where we’ll have our grand finale.”

“I’m glad you’re happy to see Lara,” Tanner said. “But I only brought her here at your request. I don’t want to hear you talk about old times. Her present and future are up to me, unless I decide otherwise.” He paused. “And do I have to remind you that we have a game to play.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Volkov brushed a long finger under Lara’s chin. “Tell him, Lara. The way I play, they’re never games of chance. They’re psychology. And I’m as good at them as I am at life itself.”

She suppressed the shiver that ran through her. Mustn’t give him the satisfaction. But she hated his hands on her. Well, she knew how to handle that problem. “He’s as good as he says, Tanner. But he has a blind spot you can drive a truck through.”

Volkov jerked back his hand. “Blind spot?”

“What Tanner calls a tell. It’s always been there.”

Volkov was clearly incensed. “What are you talking about?”

“Your weakness. That fatal flaw. It’s been obvious to me since I was a child.”

“Enlighten me.”

She smiled. “Play him, and maybe I’ll point it out to you. Or maybe Tanner will point it out to you when you lose.”

He spat out, “There’s no tell. You’re just trying to goad me.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Volkov.”

He stared at her for a moment longer. “You’re lying. I don’t have time for this, bitch.”

“Then maybe you’ll have time for this.” Tanner reached into his pocket and produced a small key. He tossed it to Volkov, who caught it.

“What’s this?”

“Look at it.”

Volkov turned the key over in his hands. He stared at the distinctive logo on its head. “Talbot Automotive.”

“That key fits into the ignition of a 1948 Talbot-Lago Grand Sport. Luxury Edition, of course.”

Volkov stopped breathing for a moment. “You’re lying.”

“No. And what’s more, I own it. As I’m sure you realize, there were only twelve ever made.”

Volkov still looked stunned. “I’ve been trying to get that car for years. I almost bought one in Sao Paulo last year, but the owner changed his mind at the last minute.”

“So I understand.”

“How—? How did you—?”

“I found another one and worked my powers of persuasion on the owner.” He repeated Volkov’s words: “It’s not a game, you know. It’s psychology.”

“Is it here?”

“No. I had it delivered to the Hammerstein Luxury and Classic Cars dealership in North Las Vegas. They should be finished detailing it anytime now. After that, it will be on display in their front window showcase. If you don’t believe me, you can send one of your men to go take a look.” Tanner pulled out his phone and scrolled through a folder of photos. He showed one to Volkov. “Here it is shortly after they took delivery. It’s beautiful.”