“For?” Ilya says, pushing again.
“I prefer not to speculate, Ilya. Barrett expects me to be discrete, and I assume that’s your expectation too.”
Ilya laughs, tipping his head to Barrett. “I like her.”
I offer a smile because it’s the polite thing to do. Unlike telling him to dropdead.
I’m presenting myself as a competent professional. Someone Ilya can rely on to get the job done. Someone he can trust. I don’t just have to be Barrett’s representative here. I could be Ilya’s too. If I can convince him I could help him run his Poulton Springs operations, that’s my in.
“We have a lot of work to do, Quinn,” he tells me. “There have been a few teething problems, which you may or may not be aware of?” He poses it as a question, testing to see if I’m aware that two men died here three nights ago. I empty my mind, sweeping away all memory of that night.
“I haven’t shared the details with Quinn,” Barrett answers for me.
“There was a security breach,” Ilya tells me. “We believe the Griffins attempted to access the stables and guesthouse. My men stopped them, but paid with their lives.”
My eyes widen in an approximation for shock. I blink hard as if trying to disguise my reaction. “Should I be concerned for my safety?”
“I wouldn’t let you stay here if there was a risk,” Barrett says quickly.
Yeah, right. Like you didn’t orchestrate a factory fire that killed an innocent man. I don’t know who Barrett’s trying to fool, but his efforts are wasted on me, and no doubt Ilya too.
“My men are highly trained,” Ilya says. “We were caught off-guard, but it won’t happen again. No one gets in or out of here without approval.”
Little does he know they already have, but I get the sense security is going to be increased. I narrow my eyes at him. “Whose approval exactly?”
“As you said yourself, Quinn. You’re Barrett’s representative,” Ilya replies. “This is his property, so of course youhave a say in who comes and goes. But there will be concessions we both need to make to ensure things run smoothly. All I ask is that you’re open and transparent. And I’ll endeavor to be the same.”
His request is delivered with perfect politeness, but it’s a threat nonetheless.
“Absolutely,” I say, reaching for my coffee cup. My fingers are getting twitchy. “Do you know when your operations will begin, or is that something you’d rather not share? I understand if you don’t.”
“One step at a time,” Ilya says with a hint of ice in his deep blue eyes. “My first priority is to reinforce the perimeter. No Griffin will step on this land again. And I hope I can count on you not to invite one in.”
Oh, fuck. He does know about last night. It’s the only conclusion I can reach in a haze of panic. Heat scorches my cheeks.
“I think Quinn learned her lesson, Ilya,” says Barrett. “And if we do need to employ contractors, I’m happy to let you vet them if you’d prefer.”
They’re talking about Reid’s first visit again. Of course they are. I rub my cheek. There’s no point in pretending I’m not blushing. “I’m so embarrassed about that. I didn’t appreciate how underhand the Griffins could be.”
“I suspect the next few weeks and months will be a steep learning curve for you, Quinn,” Ilya says. “But I look forward to working with you.”
This is his prompt for me to leave, and I take it willingly. “As do I.”
I drain my cup and, with a nod from Barrett, I stand to leave. I’m at the door when I ask the question I’m dreading.
“Will you be staying for dinner? I can organize a catering service.”
Barrett wafts a hand, quickly dismissing the idea, much to my relief. “I have business in New York tonight.”
“Very well, I’ll–”
“I’m staying for a day or two,” Ilya says smoothly. I don’t like the smile on his face that widens into a grin when my mask falls and horror flashes across my face. “Don’t worry, I won’t put you to any trouble. I’ll be making myself at home over in the guesthouse.”
He glances at Barrett, and Barrett nods, creating the illusion he’d been aware of the plan.
“Much better for that deniability you mentioned, Quinn,” Ilya continues, his eyes snapping back to me. “But since you mentioned dinner.” He arches an eyebrow. “I would like the opportunity to know you better. I’m busy tonight, but perhaps we can meet tomorrow evening. I’ll send my chef to prepare our meal. Eight o’clock?”
My mouth is dry, and I’m holding onto my composure by a thread. I was a fool to think I could control the situation.
