“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Who is it?”
“You’ll see,” he says, answering the call and putting it on speaker immediately.
Matvei says something in Russian. It sounds formal and respectful and makes me instantly nervous. Then he switches to English.
“You should know that I’m not alone, sir. Elyssa is with me, too.”
“Is she?” a deep voice responds. “Well, Elyssa, I wish we could have been introduced under different circumstances. But I suppose this will have to do.”
I glance at Matvei. “Who…?”
“I’m Artem Kovalyov,” the man says.
Oh my God. Phoenix’s father.
“It’s, uh… it’s good to meet you, sir,” I say, stumbling a little.
Is there a protocol for talking to a man like Artem Kovalyov? I’m not sure and I have no idea how to ask with him on the phone. I shoot Matvei a glare, but he’s not lo
