“Olga, do you like your lifestyle?”
Blackmail?!”
“I like it—but only if it turns out this way. No problem—I’ll make do somehow. After all, I’ll find a job.”
Frolov’s lips didn’t twitch, but the look in his eyes made it clear: he had just laughed at me, right there in his mind. Scum.
“Think again. And now—not about yourself. At your age, of course, everyone is selfish. But still… For example, figure out how much money Sofia Dmitrievna spends in a day. And in a month?”
“And what does Dad have to do with it? There’s nothing to punish her for!”
“Right. You’re guilty. And exclusively because of that, take responsibility. You have exactly five seconds to think. Yes—then you’ll pack up and move in with me. No—I’m leaving. And next time we meet… let’s say in three months. Believe me, by then you’ll be much more cooperative.”