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I look up. “You disagree?”

“I think he would tell himself he was not going after her. He would hire someone, give vague instructions, and then act surprised by the details.”

That’s possible. After all, at the end of the day he’s just a coward. And a child is an easy target.

“Next.”

Sergei changes the image. “Daniil Sokolov. Released three months ago.”

I stare at the screen. “No.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I think if Daniil wanted revenge, he would come for me loudly. He wants attention more than success.”

“He’s been meeting people again.”

“Who?”

“Small crews. Young men. Nothing disciplined.”

“That makes him dangerous in a different way.”

“Yes.”

Daniil’s face on the tablet is older than the last time I saw him, but not wiser. Some men leave prison and learn patience. Daniil looks as if prison only fed his belief that the world owes him compensation for his own stupidity.

“He knew Sofia,” Sergei says.

I don’t answer.

He moves on. “Alexei Mirov’s nephew has also been asking questions,” Sergei says.

“About?”

“Your household.”

My gaze turns to him. “Why am I hearing about this just now?”

“When?”

“Last two weeks.”

“Why am I hearing this now?”

“Because until yesterday, it looked like drunken curiosity from a boy trying to sound important in a club.”

“If my enemies are talking—heck, even whispering about it, I need to hear it.”

Sergei nods. “I’ll make sure to increase surveillance on them.” Then he hesitates. “Then there’s the matter of the nanny.”

My expression doesn’t change. “What about her?”

“All of this could be a red herring.”

I sit back.

Sergei is careful with most things. With me, he is direct because he has earned the right.