Though she was as pleased as anyone to be rid of Oleg’s vile brother, there was nothing about that final week in Saint Petersburg she would relish save for the wedding ceremony itself.
Three of Sándor’s men were dead in Moscow, and she could not even be open with their families about why. Sándor told her that if she revealed those men’s true purpose, it could put others at risk.
Assets, he called them.
Yes, they were Poshani men. Someone’s son. Someone’s brother.
But they were also assets.
So Tatyana carried the truth of their loss in her heart, made sure the families of those men were well taken care of, and kept moving forward.
Because as her husband had taught her, real leadership didn’t always mean making things even. And it never meant making things perfect. Leadership meant making the best of things for the greatest number of people. She had to swallow her losses and move past her mistakes because guilt was a luxury she did not have time to entertain.
Her people didn’t need guilt. They needed her to keep them safe and make their lives better.
If you do your job correctly,he had mused one night,they might even forget you exist.
Tatyana reached the final line of the spreadsheet, made her notes, and then sent the file off to her bookkeeper before she closed her laptop with a slap.
Well, it was more like a thunk because of all the insulation, but it was still quite satisfying.
“All finished?” Sándor asked.
“Yes.”
“Ready to head to Wilga?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s only midnight. We have plenty of time.”
“I’m ready.” She nodded at Rumi, who was ushering the last of the children out the door. “Another beautiful happily-ever-after.”
She took a slight bow. “Did you finish the expense reports?”
“Yes, mother.”
Rumi shook her finger at Tatyana. “You’ve been putting them off for weeks. Don’t make me call your real mother.”
“God no.” Tatyana sat back and closed her eyes.
“Kostya has a report ready for you also.”
Tatyana groaned. She’d hired Grimace to do a cyberaudit of all of their operations, focusing on anything that reached into Ivan’s former territory, which was now being run by Pavel’s son Yury.
He kept coming up with more weaknesses and holes.
“Tell him I’m going to my mother’s house, and if he wants me to get that report, he will have to call her actual landline and get her fax number to send it to me.” Tatyana lifted her hands. “Because I’m not taking my computer this weekend.”
“Oooh,” Rumi said. “An actual conversation over the phone?” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t dare. Especially not with your mother.”
“Then I’m safe,” she whispered. “Come on, Sándor. Let’s get out of here.”
Sándor cast a longing look at Rumi, who was staying behind and holding down the fort in Warsaw because she had her children for the weekend.
“Still?” Tatyana muttered. “One of these days she’s going to meet someone if you don’t?—”
“Mind your business.” Sándor walked to the door and picked up her coat from the rack.
“Why? You have plenty of opinions about my life.” She let him drape the heavy wool coat over her shoulders before she turned off the lights in her home office. “I don’t get to have opinions about yours?”
“No.”
