Page 106 of Kingmakers, Graduation

Andrei watches with interest.

Chief hits send.

“Let me know if she replies,” Sabrina says.

“You ready to go?” I ask her.

“Wait!” Andrei cries. “What about my profile?”

Sabrina laughs. “I’m gonna need a lot more time to fix yours. I’ll do it when we get back.”

“You should be charging for your services,” I tell Sabrina as we climb in the car.

“They can’t afford me,” she says airily.

“I see the effort you’re making,” I lay my hand on her thigh. “And I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, we’re getting on alright. Even Jasper has his good points. I mean, not his personality, or behavior, or mood … but something.”

I try not to let her see me smile.

“He’s punctual, you can say that for him,” Sabrina says, as if it pains her to admit even that.

“He’s a lot more than punctual.”

“Sure—he also makes the best coffee.”

I pretend to be hurt. “I thought you said I made the best coffee?”

“Well, you had just made me cum three times when I said that.”

“Four times, actually.”

“I’m glad one of us keeps track.”

We’re driving into the Presnensky District, where the Markovs have the majority of their hotels and restaurants. The Markovs control their territory with an iron fist, because the majority of their income comes fromkrysha.Those who pay for protection expect business to run smoothly. In a sense, the Markovs are both landlord and security force. They’re cautious about what product gets trafficked on their streets and in their properties.

Because this is the first of hopefully many such transactions, I’m doing the deal in person. Neve Markov will be representing her family. We’re meeting at the Aurora hotel on the bend of the Moskva, close to Krasnaya Park.

I’ve dressed a little nicer than normal, in slacks and a black wool coat.

Sabrina eyes me as I toss the keys to the valet.

“You clean up nice.”

“Likewise.”

She’s all in white today—white trousers, a white turtleneck, and a white coat belted at the waist, with the collar turned up against the cold. As she stands in front of the ornate stone facade of the hotel, thick flakes of snow drifting down around her and settling in herdark hair, I think how exotic she looks, and yet perfectly at home.

“Ready?” I say, taking the briefcase from the backseat.

“Of course.”

She tucks her hand in the crook of my arm and we ascend the steps together.

We take the elevator to the eighteenth floor where we meet Neve Markov in a private suite overlooking the river.

Ilsa opens the door. I think she intends to greet us with a handshake, but the moment Sabrina sees her, she throws her arms around Ilsa’s waist and hugs her hard. Ilsa can’t help smiling and hugging her back.

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