Chapter 6 - Dinner with the Boss
The dining room of the Petrov estate was designed to intimidate.
A massive mahogany table that could seat twenty people sat beneath a glittering crystal chandelier, surrounded by dark velvet walls and oil paintings of stern-looking ancestors who looked like they had buried more secrets than they had ever told.
Tonight, however, only three chairs were occupied.
At the head of the table sat Alexei. At the far end sat Maria, her nerves strung like piano wire. And right beside Alexei, sitting in a booster seat that Dmitri had hurriedly scavenged from a storage room, sat Sophie, happily buttering a dinner roll with a silver butter knife that cost more than Maria’s first car.
"More butter, please, Dr. Petrov," Sophie instructed happily, holding out her roll toward the head of the Chicago underworld.
Alexei actually smiled—a genuine, unguarded expression that crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. He took the knife, applied a precise layer of butter, and handed it back with solemn gravity.
"Thank you, Dr. Alvarez," Alexei replied, his deep voice carrying a tone of absolute respect that made Maria’s heart do a strange, unwanted flip in her chest.
"You don't have to play along with her games, Mr. Petrov," Maria said, her fingers nervously pleating the napkin in her lap.
"She isn't playing, Maria," Alexei said, looking across the vast expanse of the table at her. "She diagnosed an anaphylactic reaction faster than my head of security. In my line of work, quick diagnostics are worth more than a Harvard degree."
"In your line of work, we wouldn't be sitting here eating roast chicken if someone hadn't tried to slip you a handful of nuts," Maria countered sharply, the tension of the day finally bleeding through her polite veneer.
Alexei’s smile faded, replaced by that cold, calculating mask. He picked up his crystal water glass, took a slow sip, and set it down.
"Dmitri checked the security logs for the pantry," Alexei said quietly, his voice dropping into a register meant only for her ears. "The keycard used to bypass the pantry door at 8:18 AM belonged to Viktor Vance."
Maria’s breath caught. "Your chief financial officer?"
"The same," Alexei noddedgrimly. "Viktor has been handling my accounts for eight years. He knows every shell company, every offshore account, and every real estate holding I own. And more importantly... he knows that my health insurance policies and corporate succession bylaws dictate that if I die without a named heir, controlling shares of Petrov Logistics revert to the board of directors—a board currently chaired by Viktor and his brother."
The puzzle pieces clicked together with terrifying clarity.
"He wasn't just trying to kill you," Maria whispered, the horror dawning on her. "He was staging a corporate coup disguised as a medical emergency."
"Exactly," Alexei said, his slate-gray eyes flashing with a dangerous, razor-sharp light. "Which means Viktor thinks I’m vulnerable. He thinks the lion is sick, and the jackals are ready to move in."
"What are you going to do?"
"I’m going to let him think he succeeded," Alexei said calmly, cutting a piece of chicken with clinical precision. "Tomorrow morning, Dmitri will leak a medical report to the board stating that my recovery from the anaphylactic shock was incomplete, and that I am currently confined to my private suite under heavy sedation."
Maria stared at him in disbelief. "You're going to fake your own incapacitation? That’s insane! If Viktor finds out you're setting a trap—"
"He won't find out," Alexei interrupted smoothly, his gaze locking onto hers with absolute, unyielding certainty. "Because while my enemies think I’m locked in my bedroom, I’ll be operating through the only person in this house they aren't watching."
Maria froze. She pointed a finger at her own chest. "Me? You want me to be your proxy?"
"You have access to the administrative wing to clean the offices," Alexei pointed out, his voice dropping into a low, persuasive purr. "You have a sharp mind, you don't look like a threat, and Viktor doesn't even know your last name yet. You’re the ultimate blind spot."
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"I am a maid, Mr. Petrov! Not an undercover operative!"
"You saved my life today, Maria," Alexei said softly, standing up from his chair and walking slowly around the length of the table until he stopped right beside her chair. He leaned down, his voice a warm, steady murmur against her ear. "You’re already part of the operation. Now you just have to decide whether you want to help me take my house back."
