"What about me?"
"Documents proving you killed one of his commanders in 2019, whom everyone believes died in a car accident." She paused. "Ivan knew and had proof. He kept it in case you ever became a problem."
Damen's hands tightened on the armrests of his chair.
"Where are these files?"
"Hidden. Accessible only to me."
"You're blackmailing me?"
"No." She walked back towards his desk and stopped a few steps away from him. "I'm offering you a deal."
"What do you want?"
"A seat at the table."
He blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't want money or protection. I don't want to be married off to some minor captain to secure an alliance. I want to work."
"As what?"
"As your advisor or your intelligence officer. Whatever title makes the men comfortable." She announced. "I know this organization better than anyone. I know where the bodies are buried, which captains are loyal, which are ambitious, and which are liabilities. I know about the alliances, the grudges, and the debts. I spent ten years being invisible but invisible people see everything."
Damen stood up slowly and stopped in front of her.
"Why should I trust the widow of the man I killed?"
She had been waiting for this question.
"Because the widow of the man you killed is the reason you're alive to sit on that chair."
Surprise flickered on his face.
"What does that mean?"
"Let's save some information for the future, shall we?" She smiled. "I'm offering you a partnership. You need what I know and I need an identity that isn't 'Ivan's widow.' We can help each other."
"And if I say no?"
She stepped back, then walked towards the door.
"Then I give Ivan's files to the three families currently plotting to take your throne. They'll have everything they need to destroy you. And you'll lose everything before the dirt on Ivan's grave even settles." She said over her shoulder, continuing her walk.
She could feel his eyes on her back. Her hand reached the door handle.
"Nadia."
She stopped.
Not Mrs. Petrova. Nadia.
She didn't turn around.
"Sit down." He said. "Let's talk."
She smiled, then turned back with a neutral expression. This time, she walked to his desk and sat on the chair.
They talked for three hours, discussing business first. They went through Ivan's network bit by bit. Nadia had memorized all numbers, names, date, and the exact leverage each alliance offered and required.
Damen took notes, asked questions, and challenged her twice on details. Both times, she took out documents from her purse containing receipts, contracts, and photographs. By the second hour, he had stopped challenging her.
"You really did run his empire." He said during a conversation. "But why didn't he know?"
"Because Ivan thought women were decorative; useful only for sex and social functions. He never imagined I was capable of understanding his business, let alone managing it." She leaned back in the chair. "Men like Ivan don't see women as threats, and that's their weakness."
"And you exploited him."
"I survived him."
By the third hour, they had moved from business to strategy. She told him about every captain; who was loyal to his position, and who was loyal to Damen personally, who could be bought and who was a risk.
"Sokolov is a drunkard. But he's emotional. If you keep him close and make him feel valued. He'll weep at your feet and die for you."
"And Viktor?"
"Viktor is loyal to power. As long as you have power, he'll be yours."
Finally, after three hours, they were done.
"Okay." Damen said.
"Okay what?"
"You have the position. An advisory role and access to strategy meetings."
Relief flooded through her, but she didn't let it show.
"Salary?" She asked.
"Name your price."
"I don't want money. I want autonomy. I don't want to be managed, controlled or married off to serve an alliance."
"No one will touch you without your consent. I'll make of that."
She smirked, and they stared at each other across the desk.
"Why do I feel like I just made a deal with the devil?" He asked.
"Because you're smart enough to recognize one when you see her."
He laughed. The laugh was genuine and Nadia suddenly felt warm. She stood up immediately.
"I should go. You have work to do."
He stood up as well and walked towards her. For a moment, she thought he might offer his hand to shake. Instead, he walked to the door with her. She reached for the handle, but his hand came up first and opened the door for her.
"Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for listening."
She stepped outside and started walking towards the elevator. Behind her, Damen called her.
"Nadia."
She stopped and turned back. He was standing at the door.
"How about meeting again to discuss further?" He asked.
"I'll send you my schedule."
"Looking forward to it."
She turned back towards the elevator and had taken only three steps when she felt his hand on her back.
His touch was light and gentle. He moved her slightly to the left, away from a cleaning cart she was about to walk into, too focused on Damen to notice it.
"Careful." He murmured and removed his hand.
But the warmth of his palm burned through her dress, straight into her body that hadn't felt gentle touch in ten years.
She kept walking without reacting. She reached the elevator and stepped inside. It was empty. She turned and saw Damen still standing at the door, watching her.
The doors closed. The moment she was alone, Nadia's knees buckled. She pressed her back against the elevator wall, and touched the spot on her lower back where his palm had been. The fabric was still warm.
"No." She whispered.
Her heart was racing.
"No." She whispered again. "You don't get to feel things. I survived ten years of marriage to a monster, planned his death, walked into the new Pakhan's office, demanded a seat at the table and won. And one gentle touch nearly broke me?"
"It's just touch deprivation." She whispered to her reflection in the mirror.
But her reflection didn't look convinced.