Page 243 of Sexting His Assistant

The next morning, Nina comes to the study before I find the courage to go to her.

I hear the commotion before I see her.

A guard outside says, “Miss Hale, he’s in a meeting.”

Nina says, “Move.”

The guard says, “I cannot allow⁠—”

Nina says, “I have a concussion, not a contagious disease. Move.”

Another voice, Sergei this time, says, “Ms. Hale, please wait.”

The door opens.

Nina walks in wearing black leggings, an oversized sweater, and the pale slippers my mother bought. Her hair is tied back badly. Her face is still a little bruised, but her eyes are clear and furious.

Sergei follows her in with the expression of a man who knows he has failed and hopes I will appreciate the circumstances.

I say, “Let her in.”

Sergei stops. “Boss⁠—”

“I said let her in.”

The men step back.

Nina looks at them, then at me. “That was generous.”

I say, “Leave us.”

Pavel remains near the side table with the files.

I look at him. “You too.”

Pavel says, “Boss, the documents⁠—”

“Outside,” I say.

Nina says, “No. Let him stay.”

I look at her.

She does not look away. “I’m tired of conversations happening in rooms I’m not allowed to enter,” Nina says. “If Pavel knows everything, he can stand there while I ask questions.”

Pavel’s expression stays neutral.

I say, “Fine.”

Sergei and the others leave. Pavel remains by the table, quiet, tablet tucked under one arm.

Nina closes the door herself. That small act tells me more than her face does. She wants control of at least one exit.

I say, “You should be resting.”

Nina says, “I’m leaving.”

I stand. “No.”