Page 42 of Boardroom Sins

CARGO-4029-SHG-NYC-PORT

VESSEL-IRON-KING-BRK-19

??? (CNSHA) - ??????????

Port Code: USNYC-413-CLEARED

WTF does this shit mean?!?!?!

Monday morning delivers gray skies and a knot in my stomach.

I take the elevator up to the fiftieth floor and step out onto the endless white marble. The snake plants are exactly where I left them. My desk is exactly where I left it.

And Lukas’s door is closed.

I sit down. I stare at the door. I wait.

Nothing happens.

I check my email. Nothing new there, so I check my phone. Nothing there, either.

Then I pull up my banking app for the hundredth time. The money isn’t there yet. HR said, “effective immediately,” but payroll doesn’t process until Friday, so for now, it’s just a promise. A tantalizing number on a screen.

I close the app and put my phone face-down on the desk, then put my face face-down on my desk.

What am I supposed to do? March in there and demand answers? “Hey, Mr. Lazarev, I couldn’t help but notice you know precisely how much my brother’s rehab costs and that it matches my new ‘salary bump’ down to the penny. Care to explain?”That would go over well.

Alternatively, I could thank him. Fall at his feet and weep with maidenly gratitude. “Thank you for the raise, sir. It’s unbelievably generous. Praise be rendered unto your bloodline!”Of course, if I go that route, I’ll have to pretend I don’t find it beyond creepy that he has access to information he should not have.

Or I could reject it entirely. “I don’t want your pity money.”Hand back the raise and walk away with my dignity intact.

Except I can’t afford dignity. Dignity, after all, doesn’t pay for salmon with lemon butter sauce. It sure as hell doesn’t keep Gideon in a place where he’s actually getting better.

Ineedthis money. That’s the ugly truth. I need it bad.

But how can I keep it when taking it feels wrong? Or if not wrong, then at least unwise. If I’m agreeing to something I don’t fully understand, then what will I do when the consequencescome calling? And mark my words—theywillcome calling. Just because I’m signing a contract in invisible ink doesn’t mean the repercussions won’t be very real indeed.

I think about what Jillian said.Be careful.

I think about what Kir said.My father collects things he finds interesting.

I think about Elena Lazareva and a body that was never found.

The whole time, Lukas’s door stays closed.

With a sigh, I wrench myself away from this useless thought experiment and do my best to be productive for a change. I bury myself in the files I didn’t finish last week. In terms of fun, it’s like resuming a migraine right where I left off, but I do the best I can to just plow through the pages.

At least the work is mindless. Mindless for me, at least, because I can make neither heads nor tails of it. Names, dates, shipping manifests, port codes… I don’t have a clue what any of it means, but I copy it all down anyway. At least it gives me something to do other than stare at that closed door.

Lunchtime comes and goes. Around two o’clock, the phone on my desk rings.

I jump. The thing has never rung before. I didn’t even know it was connected.

I pick up anxiously. “Mr. Lazarev’s office.”

“Get him.” The voice is male, angry, accented. “Now.”

I hold the phone away from my ear in surprise, like it might take a chunk out of the side of my face if I’m not careful. “I’m sorry, who is this?”