“That’s a reasonable conclusion,” he said.
“What the fuck does that mean, Maxim?”
“Santo,” Maxim said, his voice lowering ever so slightly, “is a vicious idiot. I was surprised he’d lasted as long as he had. Having someone like Daniela to soothe the feathers he ruffled likely went far in keeping the peace,” he said.
I shook my head, began pacing again. I hated to show this side of myself to Maxim, but there was no choice, not at this moment.
“Although,” Maxim said. I paused again to look at him.
“What?”
“She would have been a child when Santo first rose to power.” He furrowed his brow slightly. “I assume that means this was the mother’s job before.”
“Fuck,” I uttered, angry with myself for not having Maxim’s foresight. “She worshipped her mother. Probably stayed right at her fucking feet and learned everything.”
“Apparently,” he said.
“Why are you so calm? This is bullshit,” I said, shocked that Maxim was not reacting more strongly.
“Why is this bullshit?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Why?” I said, incredulously. “If I told you Senna was comforting widows, soothing ruffled feathers, how would you respond?”
Maxim, who’d sat only moments before stood slowly and leveled me with a stare. I knew what that look meant, but right now, I didn’t care.
“Careful, Sergei,” he said.
It was a warning he wouldn’t ordinarily give, one that I would appreciate when I got my head back on right. I started pacing again, ignoring Maxim’s gaze on me.
“Are you upset because she’s a woman? Women are just as capable as men. Probably more than,” he said.
There was nothing funny about the situation, but Maxim managed to get a laugh from me. “I never took you for a feminist.”
“But you know I’m an intelligent person, one who sees talent and potential. Apparently Santo’s sweet, innocent daughter is more than meets the eye,” he said.
“You sound so impressed,” I said, frowning. Perhaps it was impressive, but the fact that she was involved at all was more important than how she managed to handle it.
Maxim sat again. “It’s impressive. Adopted, a woman, Santo’s child. And even with all that against her, she’s made her path, managed to hold on to something like her humanity. Admirable,” he said.
He didn’t utter those words lightly.
In the whole of our relationship, which essentially spanned the length of my life, I had only rarely heard Maxim refer to someone as admirable. Yet he had bestowed that rare, almost unheard-of compliment on Daniela.
I was still so angry, I could hardly see straight, but I was proud too. She’d managed to get Maxim’s approval, something even I hadn’t managed. Daniela had struck me as capable, smart, from the very first, and she was proving how right that impression had been.
“However,” Maxim said, “as impressive as it is, this cannot continue.”
I lifted a brow. “What happened to equal rights and all that?” I said, able to relax some now that Maxim seemed to be seeing the source of my concern.
“I run the Syndicate. Daniela is not a part of it. I’ll make an exception once, but not again. Make sure she understands that,” he said.
“She will,” I said.
* * *
Daniela
Sergei had been gone when I woke up, and though I missed him, I didn’t linger on that. I had things to do today.
I showered quickly, but it took me a long time, even longer than usual, to pick an outfit.
Davey’s body hadn’t been found, and I doubted it would be. Still, there was a delicate balance to strike, one that was respectful but not outright mourning.
I finally settled on a midcalf black skirt and black and white sweater. The outfit was borderline severe, almost perfunctory, but I thought it conveyed my sympathy without going over the top.
I also debated whether or not to make a casserole, but that seemed a little outrageous, so I simply grabbed a small duffel, my purse, and after a quick stop, I headed to my destination.
I’d done this before, more times than I wanted to remember, but this time felt different.
In fact, I hated it.
I shouldn’t be here; he wouldn’t want me to be. He’d be furious if—when—he found out. And I didn’t want to be here, either. I was exhausted, and for the first time in my life, cleaning up Santo’s messes, proving my use was not the most important thing to me.
I could be at home making love to Sergei or be spending time with Senna. But I wasn’t. Instead, I was doing my duty, devoting my energy to saving something that was already gone. The sad thing was I knew all this was futile. Even before last night’s conversation with Sergei I had known that I couldn’t continue as I had been.