Page 45 of Power's Fall

“Yes,” Dahlia breathed, “he does.”

Vadisk snapped back to reality, staring at his spouses’ eager expressions. He tried to frown but ended up grinning. “I have an idea. Maybe later.”

“Something to look forward to,” Dahlia said.

In silent agreement, they all rose, taking a minute. Vadisk got some tea, Dahlia went to the bathroom, and Montana disappeared into the bedroom. Probably needed some alone time to have a conversation with his dick to make it go down. Vadisk had spotted his hard-on when he stood.

Once they were all back and seated, Vadisk cleared his throat. “We have two possible blackmailers. I think we should rule out the masseuse.”

“I ruled her out,” Montana said. “I looked into her, and though her family had to leave Crimea after the resort was closed, they had extended family in Russia they were able to go to who helped them. They didn’t really suffer, not the way other families who didn’t leave suffered.”

“When did you do all this?” Dahlia asked.

“While we were at lunch.”

Vadisk looked at Montana but didn’t say what he was thinking. Montana moved like he could hold his own in a fight, and he was a military man, but that didn’t mean he was good at this kind of intelligence work. Vadisk wasn’t either, but he knew who to ask for help. He was planning to call Nikolett or Grigoris Violaris, the security minister whom he should technically report to as a security officer, and ask them to look into it.

“I think we all agree that Sinaver Abduramanov is who we need to focus on,” Dahlia said. “I’m going to request a meeting with him.”

“To interview him for your show?” Vadisk asked.

“Yes.”

“No way he would agree,” Vadisk said. “Plus, it’s too dangerous.”

Dahlia dismissed that argument. “Being here is dangerous. But we’re here to find the blackmailer and figure out how he knows who we are. The best way to do that is to talk to him.”

Vadisk scowled. “We do that, and he’ll know we’re here hunting him.”

“No, he wouldn’t. That’s a massive leap. No one would look at what we’ve been doing since I got here and think anything but what we’ve told them. I’m here filming episodes of ‘Don’t Follow Me,’ documenting Crimea because most of the world will never have the chance to come here. It won’t be the first time I interviewed a local official on camera.”

“He won’t agree to it,” Vadisk repeated, his muscles tight with anxiety at the idea of Dahlia interviewing Sinaver, who was dangerous even if he wasn’t the blackmailer.

“We won’t know until we ask,” Dahlia insisted.

“We ask, and he’ll start paying attention to us.”

“He’s already paying attention to us. If he’s head of the Crimean Security Force, those two men were his people. And if he controls the borders, he’s known Montana and I were coming for months. He’s had your name for a week. Talking to him won’t give him more information than he already has.”

“He’ll wonder why you want to talk to him.”

“And Izolda Ivanova will tell him that I’m interested in the history of tourism in the area and the impact it’s had, both past and present.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

Vadisk tried to stare Dahlia down, leaning forward a little. All she did was stare back, then slowly raise one eyebrow. Fuck. Why couldn’t he have a nice meek wife? Not that he actually wanted that, but he was not going to let her do something this fucking dangerous.

“What are our other options besides talking to him?” Dahlia asked, her tone making it clear she thought therewereno other options.

“I’ll have people in my territory research…” Except theyhadresearched. Not only did Hungary have people looking into it, Ottoman had been working on this for months, since it was three Ottoman members who’d been blackmailed after staying here. Plus, he was sure the Trinity Masters had tried a digital investigation before moving on to plan B and sending Montana and Dahlia here in person.

Now they had a name they could give the investigation teams, but he knew that, given the severity of the situation, they would have already combed every digital record they could get their hands on for mention of either society. If Sinaver had digital blackmail files, they would have found it, even without first knowing his name.

“I doubt that would uncover how Sinaver knows about the Masters’ Admiralty and Trinity Masters,” Montana said. “Or how he’s identifying members.”

It was exactly what Vadisk was thinking, but hearing it out loud irked him.

“Then we bring someone in and shoot him from a distance.” Rome had one of the world’s best snipers, a woman who just happened to be married to the admiral.

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