Page 45 of Claimed By the Boss
“This changes the inheritance structure considerably.”
“I know.”
Fedorov, who has said nothing since he sat down, leans forward with his elbows on his knees and looks at me with the expressionof a man who has just watched a board change. “Gregor,” he says.
“Yes,” I say. “Gregor.”
Fedorov sits back.
Alexei clears his throat. “This needs to be formalized. The council documentation, the succession agreements, and the internal recognition of the child’s position in the line. It cannot wait.”
“It won’t wait,” I say. “I want the documentation drafted by the end of the week.”
The meeting runs for forty minutes. By the end of it, Alexei has already called his documentation team, Viktor has agreed to speak to two outer council members whose positions need managing, and Dominic has begun the structural analysis of the changes to the succession agreement. They file out with the focused efficiency of men who have just been given something concrete to do.
Fedorov is last. He stops at the door. “Gregor is going to move faster now,” he says.
“I know.”
“Whatever he has already set in motion, this accelerates it.”
“I know, Fedorov.”
He nods once. Leaves.
Roman comes in when the last of them has gone.
He closes the door. Stands at the window with the city at his back and says nothing for a moment in the way he does when he has something to say that he’s deciding how to frame.
“She asked you not to,” he says.
It’s not a question. Roman has been with me long enough to read the shape of a decision I made despite what I was asked.
“Yes,” I say.
“And you did it anyway.”
“The Marchetti faction has been running inquiries about her for two weeks. Gregor is talking to people he shouldn’t be talking to. Every day this information sits unprotected inside this organization is a day someone can use it against her before the council’s weight shifts in her favor.” I look at him. “She asked me not to. She doesn’t have the full picture of what is moving toward her.”
Roman is quiet for a moment. “That’s a reasonable strategic argument.”
“Yes.”
“It’s also the argument you would make if you were telling yourself this was only strategic.”
I look at him. He looks back. I don’t answer him.
He picks up his folder. “She’s going to find out before you tell her,” he says. “The council moves fast when there’s a succession question. Someone will mention it.”
“I know.”
“Zane.” He stops at the door. “When she finds out, the argument you just gave me is not going to be the one she hears.”
He leaves.
I sit at my desk. The succession documents Alexei is drafting are already in motion. The four men who just left this office are already making calls. The information is out, and it is running.
I told her I wouldn’t do anything with this yet.
