Page 242 of Sexting His Assistant

I look at the tablet.

Misha’s internal credential number sits on the screen with a timestamp beside it.

How did we miss it before? I know exactly how. No one would ever suspect Misha, and he took advantage of that.

I say, “Where was Misha during the all-hands?”

Pavel says, “Marked as remote.”

“By whom?” I ask.

Pavel says, “Calendar entry came from his account.”

I look at him.

Pavel adds, “That can also be manipulated.”

Everything can be manipulated.

That’s the problem. The second report comes that afternoon.

Alina.

Pavel has a still image from a traffic camera outside a private clinic, three weeks before she came into my office. Alina is visible in sunglasses and a pale coat, stepping into a car.

A man is beside her. Not Roman.

Misha.

The image is grainy, but it’s him.

Same height. Same build. Same coat I’ve seen him wear a dozen times. Head turned slightly toward Alina as if he is speaking to her.

Pavel says, “There are two more sightings. One near a hotel restaurant. One at a side entrance to the old Aurelia building.”

I take the tablet from him and look at the images one by one. It’s the same car I saw standing outside Nina’s apartment building. So, it was Alina driving the car that day.

By the second evening, I’m in the lower office with Pavel, Sergei, and two analysts working through phone records, access logs, building footage, and every transaction channel connected to the dead man. I have slept badly in a chair. I have not gone upstairs except once to stand outside Nina’s door like an idiot and then leave before knocking.

Yelena finds me near midnight and says, “You’re being cruel.”

I look at my mother.

She says, “Not by killing that man. By hiding from her afterward.”

“She needed space.”

My mother shakes her head. “You needed an excuse.”

I say nothing.

My mother says, “Luka.”

I say, “She looked at me like I was a monster.”

Yelena’s face softens, but she does not let me off. “Then show her something else.”

I don’t answer.