I say us.
But really, I don’t see a cent.
The forty-nine percent in my name is on paper, but…legally, it’s mine. And legally, it’s above board in there. The girls, if they do solicit, do it discreetly and on their own. They get most of what they charge, and the men make donations.
Beyond that, I don’t ask questions.
But selling my share would make the money I need. Demyan’s hit by offers to buy into it all the time, and even for a fraction of ownership, people are willing to pay exorbitant amounts.
Demyan never entertains it.
But I just may.
This could be my solution.
“Can I use your lawyer?” I ask.
Ilya narrows his eyes as he picks up his coffee. “Sure, but why?”
I grin, shrug, and sip my tea. “If Demyan won’t release my trust fund money, maybe he needs a push.”
“A…push?” There’s a warning in his tone, but I ignore it.
I nod. “I want your lawyer to draw up the paperwork for me to sell my share of the club.”
“Fuck, Alina, have you lost your mind?” Ilya shakes his head. “Demyan will lose his shit if you do this.”
“Then he can do two things—release my trust fund like I asked or buy my shares.”
And if he pisses me off enough, I’ll start a bidding war.
“Maybe I’ll sell to Erin. Whatever. If he needs the buffer of an innocent, then she’d be perfect. Or his kids and Erin. However he needs to work it. Or, you know, give me my trust. It’s not hard, and I no longer care. I’m sick of him micromanaging my life.”
“This won’t end well,” he mutters.
“Or maybe he’ll wake up to only himself and then do things right.”
He sighs. “Fine.”
Later, I call Ilya’s lawyer. She echoes Ilya’s thoughts on it all.
“Ilya said we can draw the papers up and sit on them.”
“No,” I say. “Draw them up and then present them to Demyan on my behalf.”
“You’ll need to come to my office.”
“When?”
“Any time today.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
ILYA
That afternoon,Albert’s excitement announces Alina’s return.
