Page 58 of Power's Fall

She hid the wince at him using her full name. To her, it felt almost like a threat, but using the full name was part of how new people greeted one another in this area of Eastern Europe.

Sinaver shook hands and exchanged greetings with Montana and then Vadisk. She held her breath when Vadisk clasped his hand.

When he backed up, she grabbed the box of See’s Candies truffles off the chair where she’d left it, holding it out to him. “Thank you for hosting us.” She wanted to make sure he knew this was a host gift, nothing more or less.

Sinaver looked surprised as he accepted the wrapped box.

“They’re chocolate candies made in America—in California.”

Sinaver circled the desk and sat, so they followed suit. He looked at the chocolate box on the desk for a moment longer, and the smallest of smiles touched his face.

“Thank you again for meeting with me. I was thinking we could talk for a few minutes, and then if you feel comfortable, I’d love to film some of our conversation. However, if you’d prefer no camera, I can tell your story,” she said, looking toward Vadisk to translate.

Before he could, Sinaver tilted his head and smiled. “We both know you speak Russian.”

Dahlia returned the smile. “I do,” she said in the same language. “But my partner does not. I didn’t wish to be rude.”

“You have a translator for him, don’t you?” Sinaver looked at Vadisk, who, after a moment, moved to stand behind Montana.

“Yes,” Dahlia replied. “As I was saying, if you’d prefer not to be on camera, I can still include your story.”

“You would send me the video to approve before you put it on the internet.”

He didn’t phrase it like a question but a command, one Dahlia wouldn’t accept. “No, I’m the only person who decides if a video is ready,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Sinaver’s gaze narrowed, and beside her, Montana shifted uneasily.

The tension started to build, so she cut through it with a smooth stream of practiced words. “As I mentioned in my email, I’m fascinated by the history of tourism in the area, and the impact the resorts have had on the people who live here. While talking to the manager of Crimean Sky, she showed me a picture that included you and your mother.”

“A photo?” His brows rose.

Dahlia took her phone out of her pocket, checking it. “Let me see if I took a picture of the picture.” She scrolled for a minute, then looked at Montana, switching to English. “Did you take a picture of the photo from the album?”

Montana pulled his phone from his pocket and started tapping.

“While he looks for that—and if we don’t have one, I will take a photo and email it to you when we get back to the resort—can I ask you some questions?”

“Yes.”

Dahlia leaned forward. “Your mother was the head housekeeper at what is now Crimean Sky when you were a child, correct?”

“Yes.”

Dahlia waited, hoping that though she’d asked a yes or no question, silence would encourage him to say more. It worked.

“My mother is a beautiful, hardworking woman. She did more than clean the rooms. She made sure there were flowers. We would walk for hours on her days off to collect…” He trailed off, saying something in what had to be Ukrainian because she didn’t understand.

He and Vadisk spoke for a moment, Vadisk frowning. She caught a few words due to some commonalities between Russian and Ukrainian, but for the first time, she really did need a translator.

Vadisk pulled out his phone, and a second later turned the screen to Sinaver, who nodded.

Vadisk turned to her. “These are the flowers they picked. In English, they’re called cloth-of-gold crocus, and they’re only found in this part of the world.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said honestly. If they ran out of items on the current itinerary, maybe she could find a botanical garden for them to visit. She switched her attention back to Sinaver. “Why do you think she chose those flowers? Were they the only ones that grew around where you lived?”

Sinaver shook his head and leaned back in the chair. “No, she knew these were special flowers. Krym’s flowers. She wanted the people who came here to see the beauty.” His expression hardened. “They didn’t appreciate it.”

“The guests?”

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