“Situation?” I ask.
“Government surveillance. Multiple agencies have amped up monitoring on you in the past seventy-two hours.”
Katya stiffens beside me, though she tries to hide it.
“Surveillance of what?” she asks, her voice tight.
“Finances. Communication intercepts. Eyes on your key people.” Pavel flips open his case, and a tablet inside glows with intel. “Your husband is under federal investigation.”
“Since when?” My tone is sharp.
“Months,” he says. “But the past few weeks turned it hot.” He swipes through docs, then eyes Katya. “Mrs. Kozlov… any unusual tails? Cars, faces you don’t recognize?”
She tilts her head thoughtfully and clicks her tongue. “I haven’t noticed. Should I?”
“In your husband’s line of work, awareness is survival. I need access to the property. Same way I did at the house.”
I nod once. “Do it.”
“What do you recommend?” Katya presses.
Pavel studies her for too long. “Enhanced protocols. Full personnel sweep. Background checks on anyone who could be compromised.”
“Including my wife?”
“Especially her. Heat spiked after your marriage. Could be a coincidence; could be her.”
“How would I attract attention?" Katya asks. “I’m nobody important.”
“Sometimesnobody importantturns out to be somebody very important who’s been hiding in plain sight.”
His words are vague, but his eyes cut to Katya like it’s personal.
“I want a private assessment with Mrs. Kozlov,” Pavel says. “Test certain scenarios. Gauge her responses. Might show what kind of threat we’re facing.”
“What scenarios?” I demand.
“Basic psychological profiling. Testing to see if she’s been exposed to anything that could compromise you.”
My instinct tells me to shut this down, but saying no makes us look guilty. If Pavel is legitimately trying to assess security risks, his request makes perfect sense.
“Fine. But I watch.”
“Of course. Transparency builds trust.”
My phone cuts in. Alexei’s always had the worst timing, but ignoring him means bigger problems.
“I’ll take this.” I jerk my chin at Pavel and Katya. “Set it up. Don’t start.”
I step away for privacy. “What?”
“Mikhailov deal’s dead,” Alexei barks. “Popov family grabbed it.”
“Why?” My voice grinds.
“Decision-maker says leadership is distracted. The Morozov deal collapsed yesterday, too. Word’s out. The great Dmitri Kozlov is too lovesick to lead.”
Two contracts gone in two days. The money hurts, but the reputation damage could be worse.
