Читать книгу The Last Kolovsky Playboy - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 8

RIMINIC IVAN KOLOVSKY.

Aleksi put the name into an internet search engine and got nothing.

He didn’t really know where to start, and then he glanced over to his mother, who was going through the messages on her phone, and toyed with flicking the name on an e-mail to her, just to watch her reaction—except Lavinia was buzzing like an annoying fly around him, asking for a password so she could get some figures that were needed for tonight.

‘Kate will sort it out,’ Aleksi uttered, without looking over from the computer, saying the same words he spoke perhaps a hundred times a day.

It was Friday afternoon, but there was no end-of-week buoyancy filling the building. Aleksi had been back for a week now, and had made it exceptionally clear that, whatever Nina or the board might think, for now he was certainly in charge.

There had been several sackings—anyone who had dared question him had been none too politely shown the door—and everyone was walking on eggshells around him.

Everyone, that was, but Kate. She had long since learnt that Aleksi smelt fear like a shark smelt blood, and she refused to bend to his will.

Refused to be beholden to him.

It was the only way she knew how to survive.

‘I really need to get things prepared for your conference call with Belenki,’ Lavinia insisted. ‘The meeting won’t be till six p.m. our time, and Kate leaves at five…’