This time, his laugh sounded real. “Maybe Petrov was right about you.”
I should have hung up.
But Maxim had asked me to choose myself.
Choosing myself meant gathering information before walking into a fire.
So one hour later, I sat across from Leon Volkov at a corner table in a quiet hotel restaurant on Michigan Avenue. The kind of place where old money ate soft scrambled eggs under chandeliers while pretending not to notice bodyguards at the doors.
Leon wore a navy suit and a silk tie. In daylight, he looked less like a monster and more like a retired senator who had buried several witnesses.
“You came,” he said.
“I was curious.”
“Curiosity gets people killed.”
“So does ignorance.”
He smiled. “There she is again.”
I did not smile back.
Leon stirred his coffee slowly. “Petrov is using you.”
“Yes.”
He blinked.
“He told me as much,” I said. “Strategic value. Information advantage. Weakening your position. He was honest.”
Leon’s fingers paused on the spoon.
“That is one of Maxim’s best tricks,” he said. “He tells enough truth that you stop looking for the lie.”
I hated how neatly that fit into my fear.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“You stay with my organization.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“You work in the structure we all built.”
“I work for Petrov Consolidated.”
“Paper,” Leon said dismissively. “Don’t insult yourself by pretending legal names matter.”
He slid a folder across the table.
I did not touch it.
“Open it,” he said.
Inside was an employment contract.
The salary made my mouth go dry.
Four times what I currently made.
A title: Director of Strategic Intelligence.
An apartment in Gold Coast. A car service. Security. Signing bonus. Decision-making authority.
And one private clause requiring confidential advisory reports on Maxim Petrov.
I closed the folder.
“At least you’re direct.”
“I respect intelligence.”
“No,” I said. “You respect leverage.”
Leon leaned back. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes.”
“Not in this city.”
I looked at him carefully. “Why now?”
His expression shifted, not much, but enough.
“Because Petrov embarrassed me.”
“So this is ego.”
“Everything is ego at the top.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
For a moment, Leon stared at me.
Then he laughed again, but this time there was no amusement in it.
“You think Petrov is different because he defended you. He is not. He would burn this city to protect what he considers his. At first, that will feel like devotion. Eventually, it will feel like a cage.”
I thought of Maxim’s office. His calm voice. His promise that I could leave.
I also thought of the new fear in my chest, the sense that every door I opened now had someone watching from the other side.
Leon softened his tone. “Lissa, listen to me. Men like Maxim do not explode because of principle. They explode because of possession.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is that what you think happened yesterday?”
“I think he revealed more than he intended.”
“And you asking whether I was single was just business?”
“No.” Leon’s eyes flicked over my face. “It was a test.”
“You wanted to see if he cared.”
“I wanted to see what kind of weakness he had.”
I went still.
Leon’s smile faded. “Now I know.”
I stood.
“We’re done.”
“Are we?”
I picked up my bag.
Leon’s voice followed me. “Ask yourself one thing before you choose him. If he sees you as an equal, why did it take another man noticing you for him to say so?”
That question stayed with me all day like a bruise.
At the office, whispers stopped when I entered the executive floor.
People who had ignored me for years suddenly stepped aside in hallways. Men who once barked coffee orders at me now nodded as if I had become dangerous overnight.
Maybe I had.
Dmitri found me near the records room.
“Maxim wants to see you.”
“Of course he does.”
Dmitri studied my face. “You met with Leon.”
I stopped.
“How do you know?”
“Because if I knew before you told us, you should assume Maxim knows too.”
I closed my eyes briefly. “Wonderful.”
“He isn’t angry.”
“That would be more convincing if you didn’t look like a man approaching a bomb.”
Dmitri’s mouth twitched. “You’re adjusting quickly.”
Maxim was alone when I entered his office.
No jacket. Sleeves rolled. A folder open on his desk, though I knew he was not reading it.
“Leon made you an offer,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Four times your salary.”
“Yes.”
“Title, apartment, security, advisory authority.”
I dropped my bag onto a chair.
“Did you also bug the omelet?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but not with anger. “No. Leon is predictable.”
“Then let me be unpredictable.” I walked to his desk. “I went because I needed to know what he wanted. I am telling you because transparency goes both ways. And I am annoyed because both of you keep acting as though my choice is an event in your private war.”
Maxim stood slowly.
“You’re right.”
That disarmed me.
“I am?”
“Yes.”
“I had more prepared.”
“I’m sure.”
I folded my arms. “He thinks you see me as a possession.”
Maxim’s expression hardened.
“And what do you think?” he asked.
“I think yesterday scared me.”
His face changed.
Not much. But enough.
I continued, “Not because you threatened him. I’ve heard worse threats in cleaner rooms. It scared me because for one second, when he asked if I was single, you looked like a man who forgot the world had consequences.”
Maxim said nothing.
“That is not safe for me,” I said. “Not in this life. Not around men who already reduce women to leverage.”
He lowered his gaze.
When he spoke, his voice was controlled, but rougher than usual.
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