He was in a different building this time — all glass and steel, a legitimate tower in the financial district, which was either reassuring or more terrifying, she hadn't decided. Forty-first floor. A corner office with a view of the entire city spread below like a circuit board.
He was on a call when Dmitri brought her in. He didn't acknowledge her.
Aria looked at the view and waited.
The call ended. She heard him set the phone down.
"You made my man accept a coffee," Aleksei said.
"It was cold. Even surveillance operatives deserve basic human consideration." She turned from the window. "I told you I'd forget. I meant it. Why is someone following me?"
He was behind his desk now — this one modern, glass, the kind of desk that said I have nothing to hide and I'll arrange you where I can see you. He had his jacket off. White shirt. He looked — she filed this away and refused to think about it — very good in a white shirt.
"There was an attempt on my life two nights ago," he said. "Someone is feeding information to a rival faction. Until I know what was compromised, everyone who had proximity to me that night is under watch."
"I'm a literature student."
"You were in the wrong place. That makes you a variable." His eyes met hers. "I don't like variables."
"I gathered that." She crossed her arms. "How long?"
"Until the situation is resolved."
"Which means?"
"Until I kill the right people," he said, without inflection.
Aria breathed through her nose. "Right. And if I say I'd prefer not to be a variable in anyone's crime situation?"
"Then I'd tell you that what you prefer isn't relevant."
There it was. The thing beneath the stillness — the absolute, total assumption of control. Not arrogance. Certainty. He simply did not operate in a world where other people's preferences were factors.
She should have been more afraid than she was.
"What's your name?" she asked instead. "Your actual name. I've been calling you the Pakhan in my head, which is accurate but impersonal."
Something shifted in his face. Not much. Just enough to register.
"Aleksei," he said.
"Aria," she said, even though he already knew. "Since we're apparently doing this."
Doing what, she hadn't defined. Neither had he.
Neither of them asked.
Comments
Second Meeting — Chapter 5 of Unravel Me Pakhan | Novelosity
