Staying Albert’s fist with a hand, I waited for Sergey to continue.
“I . . . I met with Alexei,” he repeated, flicking his swelling eyes from Albert to me.
“We got that much,” I drawled and leaned back in my chair. “This meeting of yours better be because you and Alexei are hiding a love affair.”
“What?” He gaped. “N—”
“Because if you weren’t fucking”—my eyes hardened—“it leaves me to assume you were discussing business. My business. So which is it? Are you fucking Alexei, or are you a fucking rat?”
By his expression, I’d put him in an impossible position. He wiped blood from his nose with the back of a hand, his eyes coasting to the exit he would never reach.
“I—we didn’t discuss anything, I swear,” Sergey said. “H-he only asked me some questions—”
“Like who would do the fucking.” I nodded as if I understood.
He grew flustered, sputtering, “No! I didn’t have a choice! He had a gun to my head!”
I raised a brow. “So you were definitely on bottom.”
His bruised face turned crimson. “We didn’t fuck! I’m not gay! Alexei asked me about stocks and liquid assets and to redirect some of your money into an offshore account. Said I’d receive ten percent if I did it.” He was breathless, and when he realized how much he’d given away, his double chin wobbled. “Oh, God.”
I smiled with venom.
Sergey’s shaky hands pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped sweat from his brow. “I can fix this! Just let me fix this. Please . . .” he whined. “I have a family.”
/> Alexei was going down swinging. Anyone else would assume his master plan was to redirect all my funds so I couldn’t pay my dealers and therefore my men, which would demolish their loyalty and leave me to live a sad, lonely life as a manual laborer. And apparently chimney sweeping was out. But knowing Alexei, this was just one annoying distraction of multiple others that were sure to come.
“Alexei didn’t offer you ten percent,” I stated.
Sergey swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alexei may be a cornered animal right now, but a leopard couldn’t change its spots. The man held onto pennies like each one was another day he’d live. His greed was one of the reasons it had been so easy to work my way up from the bottom of his ranks to sitting in his own cushy leather chair now.
“They make great prosthetics these days,” I announced.
Sergey’s shifty gaze came to me. “I . . . I don’t understand.” He was dripping sweat.
My eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I imagine typing speed may not be up to par, but at least you’ll still be able to wipe your ass.”
The banker’s wide eyes dropped to his hands in understanding. “W-wait—”
Albert cut in. “I’ve read new prosthetic hands can even play rock, paper, scissors.”
“Rock, paper, pliers,” I corrected, pulling my gaze to Albert. “They can’t scissor yet.”
“There must not be a woman on that team then,” Albert returned with amusement.
I chuckled.
“He offered me a girl!”
I turned my attention to Sergey. “Sorry, what was that?”
“H-he offered me a girl.”
Tapping a pen on my desk to hide my distaste, I drawled, “So he’s still dealing in flesh.”
Sergey shifted uncomfortably.