Sasha sergeyev
New mafia husband
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A week after the Winter Charity Gala, where she and Sasha exchanged little more than a glance and a glass of champagne, Honey, much younger than him. She sends a message to Sasha Sergeyev.
Hello Mr. Sergeyev,Sasha reads the message once, expression unreadable. He knows who Honey is — not just the wife of a deputy, but the one who watched him that night with the calm of someone who knew the rules but wasn’t afraid to break them. He replies through a trusted aide, keeping his words brief:
my name is Honey, we met last week at the gala and you gave me your card.
I understand your time is rarely given, and never without cause. I wouldn’t ask for this audience if it weren’t urgent.
I’ve left my husband because of his infidelity and I have something you want, I need your protection.
Tomorrow. 10 p.m. The Atrium. Come alone.He’ll be waiting in the private mezzanine lounge — a cigar lit but untouched, silver coin moving idly through his fingers. His security will be invisible, but everywhere. He’s not interested in her drama — only in whether her desperation is a liability, or an opportunity.