Page 79 of The Oligarch's Daughter

Addison shrugged. “And you’re here because . . .”

“I want protection.”

“Makes sense.”

“So what are you going after Arkady Galkin for?”

“Money laundering for the Kremlin. Stock fraud. Ever hear of the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act?”

“You mean RICO? You guys use that against the Mafia.”

“Exactly. And when we take Arkady Galkin down, the whole family goes down with him. Employees, too. Including you and your wife. Congratulations, by the way.”

“But the work I do there is a hundred percent legit. His outfit is a real investment firm. I know, because I do real investment work.”

“Based on what you know. But whose money is he playing with? Who are your investors?”

Paul thought for a moment. Hesitated. Decided this was the moment. “I know about several instances of insider trading, and I’m willing to give you that information as long as I’m protected. I want immunity.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“I also want absolute confidentiality. I do not want to testify against my father-in-law. I do not want it known that I was your source. I do not want Galkin finding out about my role.”

“Understood. Can do. Unless the case goes to trial. But these cases rarely—almost never—go to trial.”

“And I want Tatyana protected.”

Addison shook his head. “That I can’t guarantee. She’s part of the family, lives on money that was illegally obtained. Illegal proceeds.”

Paul folded his arms. “It’s nonnegotiable. She knows not a goddamned thing about her father’s business. She’s a fucking photographer. She’s an artist.”

“She’s going to lose all her money.”

This didn’t seem like a hill to die on. “But I want you guys to sign a nonprosecution agreement on her.”

After a long pause, Addison nodded. “All right, I’ll make it happen.”

What would happen to his marriage once Tatyana learned he was cooperating with the U.S. government to bring down her father? How could the marriage even survive?

Addison brought him back to the present moment.

“What kind of briefcase does Galkin carry?”

Paul tilted his head, smiled. “A Berluti. I googled it—it costs like six thousand bucks. Why?”

“I’ll explain later.”

Paul took a sip of his Coke. “One more thing. There’s been a big new development.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m going to Moscow next week.”

Addison’s brows shot up. “Whoa. With Galkin?”

Paul nodded gravely.

“Business or pleasure?”

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