It doesn’t help that she has a lot of moral ‘shackles,’ and I can’t possibly have her as an ally since we disagree on almost everything.
So now, I have to give up an important position at V Corp to her when I could’ve used it as leverage to gain a more valuable ally.
If Sasha weren’t in the picture, I wouldn’t have to take these extreme measures, but sheisin the picture, and I couldn’t remove her even if I wanted to.
I focus on Rai’s expectant face. “You lack experience and allies, in that order. You need to work on that first before you ask for a vote. I assure you that even if I vote for you this time, everyone else, Sergei included, will shoot you down. The current executive director, one of Mikhail’s men, has been bringing in a five-percent growth for three years. If you come up with a way to beat him, by all means, ask for a vote and demand that you’re appointed. That’s the only way for this to work.”
“If I do that, do I have your word that you’ll vote for me?”
I nod.
“If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone about what I just saw.”
“By all means.”
She offers her hand. “It was nice doing business with you, Kirill.”
I shake it harder than needed. “The same can’t be said about you.”
I wait for her to leave, but she just heads to the bar for more drinks, so I go to the main office, in front of which are Viktor, Yuri, and Maksim.
“Monitor Rai,” I tell them. “Don’t let her out of your sight until she leaves.”
“Yes, Boss,” they say in unison.
Once they’re gone, I step into the office. When I find no sign of Sasha, my mind goes to the worst scenario.
She got so scared about the possibility of her identity being revealed that she ran for it.
But if that were the case, surely Viktor would’ve told me.
Is she maybe…
I head to the desk and lower myself to my haunches. Sure enough, Sasha is still beneath the desk. Only now, she’s hugging her knees to her chest, face red, and eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“Why are you hiding?”
“You told me to stay here,” she says so easily.
“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” I say more to myself than to her. Then, seeing her expectant expression, I add, “It’s all been taken care of.”
“How?”
“Rai thinks I’m gay. She probably didn’t even see your face, so you’re fine.”
The unshed tears fall down her cheeks in frightening succession, and she flat out breaks into sobs. The sound is so loud and haunted that I remain frozen.
To say I’ve never cared about people crying would be an understatement. My father made sure to rip that emotion out of me just like he did every other emotion.
But the sight of her rare tears reminds me of her desperation and deep grief when we left the old dead couple back in Russia. It reminds me of the time she started to hate me, put distance between us, and completely erased me from her immediate circle.
She might have followed me to New York, but that was for some other agenda, not for me. She might yearn for my touch and let me do what I want with her, but there’s a wall that separates us.
These tears are a reminder of that wall. Averycruel reminder that I actually have no clue what goes on in this woman’s head.
“I said it’s taken care of,” I repeat in a less gentle tone. “Why the fuck are you crying?”
The shadows from the desk cast dark edges on her pale skin. “Rai thinks you’re gay and will certainly use it against you, right? She’ll threaten you with it and might even put everything you’ve worked for in jeopardy. How is that taken care of?”