He’s silent a long time. “We can survive a war. But we’ll lose standing. The important neutral players we deal with won’t trust us and that means surviving not thriving. We need something…”
“I know.” I swallow. “There’s a way I just don’t see it. And Stefina isn’t helping. And Erin doesn’t understand.”
“Do you blame her?”
Yes. No. I don’t know. “I understand her. There needs to be a way. And with all that, we need to at least attempt to appease Stefina if we get out of this. I don’t need to like her to know she’s her father’s pawn and doesn’t know it.”
“Maybe she does.”
“Maybe.” I pull up a chair and sit.
“Fuck, sounds complicated,” Ilya mutters.
“You’re not wrong,” I agree.
Ilya looks at me. “Give me some work to do.”
“You just had major surgery, and you were in a medically induced coma, then took your sweet time waking up.”
Ilya clicks his tongue. “Fuck that. This place is driving me insane,” he says, continuing in Russian. Then he says, “I’m off the heavy sedatives and pain meds, so I can work. Or give me a gun.”
“I’ll give you work.”
“Thank you,” he says. Ilya looks at me expectantly.
“I’m not sending you out on the streets. You’re hooked up.”
“Get me a computer and my phone.” I find his phone on the side table and hand it to him. Then I send a message from mine to Pavel to arrange the computer.
“Okay, find out what you can on Sergio. All the dirt, even the smallest speck.”
“Why?” He narrows his eyes.
“Because fucking Stefina won’t quit coming over every day to plan her gaudy wedding of the century.”
Actually, it’s not as gaudy as I thought it would be, but it’s big, way too big for my tastes, and too splashy.
“Doesn’t matter what I say, how much free rein I give her, she’s there. Every day.”
“Maybe she doesn’t get it,” Ilya says, “or she’s under orders to keep an eye on you.”
“Maybe.” That’s one thing I didn’t think about because what the fuck could she spy on. I don’t conduct business in front of my sister or Erin. I sure as fuck wouldn’t in front of Stefina. And my office is locked when I’m not in it. Especially now that she thinks my home is her second one.
“See if she’ll meet you at the penthouse,” Ilya says.
I note that down, but I’ll have to introduce that carefully or it’ll be seen as a slight. And fuck knows, Stefina sees everything as a slight.
“Demyan?” he asks. “Who’s footing it all?”
“Sergio.”
“Damn.”
“Isn’t that the traditional way? We know Sergio’s a traditional guy.”
“Yes, but he’ll put down every cent spent and owning you more.”
“He can think what he wants, but he doesn’t and he won’t. We’ll get out of this.”