“Does he spend much time here?”
“Oh, well…” Marina glances toward the private door Dmitri disappeared through, then back at me, worrying her lower lip. “He’s very hands-on with acquisitions. Makes sure everything is handled properly.”
“Acquisitions. That sounds interesting.”
“Yes, he’s quite… thorough in his business dealings.” She wraps her arms around herself, and the way she emphasizes thorough makes my skin crawl. She’s talking about something much darker than buying paintings.
“Have we met?” I tilt my head. “You seem familiar.”
“I don’t think so. Though I’ve heard so much about you from the other staff.” Her voice pitches higher, and she takes a small step backward.
“What kinds of things?”
Marina’s smile falters, and she glances around the empty lobby like she’s checking for witnesses. “Just that you’re recovering from an accident. Everyone’s been very concerned.”
“Everyone?”
“Well, your husband is quite… protective of you. He made it clear that your privacy and well-being are his top priorities.” She fidgets with her jewelry, twisting a ring around her finger. “It must be difficult, not remembering things. Has anything here triggered any memories?”
“No. Nothing feels familiar.” I keep my voice casual, but I’m watching every micro-expression on her face.
“That’s probably for the best.”
Her face goes pale as soon as the words come out, and her hand flies to her throat.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, just… fresh starts can be good sometimes. New beginnings.” She forces a laugh that sounds brittle and fake.
But she’s already said too much, and we both know it.
“Marina, can I ask you something?”
She clears her throat and nods. “Of course.”
“What do people around herereallythink of my husband?”
She freezes like I’ve just asked her to confess to murder, and her eyes go as wide as saucers. “I’m sorry?”
“Everyone seems so nervous around him. The waiters at restaurants, the staff here... it’s like they’re all afraid of him.” I gesture around the lobby, noting how empty it is despite being prime business hours.
“Mr. Kozlov is a very… influential man. People respect that.” Her hands are shaking now, and she stuffs them into her pockets to hide the tremor.
“Respect or fear?”
“I… I couldn’t say.” She takes another step back, putting distance between us, continuing to throw looks at the private door like she’s expecting Dmitri to burst through it any second.
“Marina, I’m not going to get you in trouble. I just want to understand my life.” I soften my voice, trying to seem less threatening.
“Your life is what he tells you it is.” The words come out flat, like she’s quoting something she’s heard. Then she realizes what she’s said and claps her hand over her mouth as her eyes fill with panic.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“Yes, you did. And I think you’re right.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and I can see her deciding whether to trust me or run. Her breathing has quickened, and she keeps shifting her weight from foot to foot.
“How much do you know about what he does?” I ask as I move closer, so she doesn’t have to speak loudly.
