Page 59 of Power's Fall

“Yes. They didn’t care about Krym. They’d stay in their rooms and cottages and think their money meant they could do whatever they wanted.”

“The guests your mother took care of weren’t respectful?”

“No. And they were immoral.”

Dahlia made sure her expression didn’t change, but her heart was slamming against her ribs.

“Immoral?” she asked. “What were the guests doing?”

Sinaver looked at her, then glanced at Montana, who was still typing on his phone, then slowly switched his attention to Vadisk.

Vadisk was right. They, Sinaver and the Crimean Security Force, were watching the three of them to see if they were a trinity, and that look made her think Sinaver had already decided they were.

“They were immoral,” he repeated slowly.

“And your mother was a moral woman.”

“She is.”

That was twice now he’d used the present tense in reference to his mother. Dahlia had assumed she’d passed away. “We heard that when the resort closed, the closest village suffered economically.”

A muscle in Sinaver’s jaw clenched. “When that woman closed the resort, it destroyed my mother, our neighbors. People starved.”

“The town was dependent on the resort.”

“Not dependent. We didn’t need them.” There was defiance in his words. Dahlia didn’t know if it was pride that made him tell such an obvious lie or if he truly believed it, despite everything he’d just said.

“Of course. What did your mother do when the resort closed?”

“I took care of her. She didn’t have to work.”

Translation: They lived off Montana’s great-uncle’s blackmail payments.

“When the resort was sold and then reopened, did your mother work there again?”

“For a while. Not long. And she didn’t have to work. I took care of her.” Again, there was pride in his words, a small smile on his lips. Then his expression went flat. “Even after it reopened, the people who used to come didn’t anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“The guests were different.”

Translation: They weren’t trinities, and therefore he couldn’t blackmail them.

But clearly he kept watching because when a Masters’ Admiralty trinity did show up, he caught them.

“They weren’t immoral?” she asked.

“No. They were rich, but rude and cheap.”

“And the previous guests, the ones who were immoral, were they also wealthy?”

“Yes, wealthy and immoral. They didn’t care about Krym.”

Apparently the immoral guests were wealthy but not rude or cheap. If she had to guess, probably the trinities who stayed here back then tipped heavily.

“Do you know why the resort closed?” she asked softly.

Because she was looking for it, she saw his expression flicker with guilt. His blackmail scheme, which he’d likely started when he was a teen, based on the timeline they’d put together, caused the resort to close, which devastated his town. And then when the resort did open again, it attracted guests who weren’t as kind or generous.