“Let go of me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He released his grip but stood close enough that I could smell the expensive scotch on his breath.

“You’ve been busy tonight, Kate,” he said.

He adjusted his cuffs, his silver cufflinks catching the dim light.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

I took a step backward until the edge of a velvet-covered bench pressed against the back of my knees.

“Don’t play stupid,” Tristan said.

He smiled, but his eyes remained flat and analytical.

“I saw you at the coordinator’s desk,” he said.

“I was doing my job,” I said. “Managing the guest list.”

“You were accessing the auction accounts,” he said.

He stepped closer, tilting his head.

“I know Arthur Sterling has been asking questions about the offshore deposits,” he said.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I kept my face completely still.

“That has nothing to do with me,” I said.

“It has everything to do with you,” Tristan said.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a slim leather wallet.