Chapter 24 - Igor

I come home from my meeting with Kervyn and storm past Matvey to go straight to my study. I pour myself a triple shot of whiskey and down the glass.

"Went that well, did it?" Yvonne asks from the door.

"I don't want to talk about it," I growl angrily. "Just leave me be."

I hear her footsteps as she walks off, but I know there will be questions later once I'm over my feelings. How can I get over my feelings, though? The woman I love wants nothing to do with me and is staying in the house of my enemy.

I pick up the empty whiskey glass and hurl it against the wall. It shatters into tiny pieces, and I clench my fist. I use my arms to sweep everything off my desk in a fit of rage.

I take the bottle of whiskey and leave the room, going to drink it alone in my bedroom.

The days pass in a drunken blur. Three days after the meeting, I'm stirred from my drunken sleep when Yvonne pulls the curtains open. "Get up."

"Go away," I moan, turning over.

She opens the curtains on that side as well.

"Yvonne, I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood, but you have an important business meeting today, and I promised Matvey I'd get you up for it." She stands with her hands on her hips.

I sit on the edge of my bed and put a hand on my head. "I have a headache."

She turns and picks something up and comes toward me. She hands me a glass of cold water and two tablets. "Here's something for the headache, and a greasy English breakfast is waiting downstairs for you to help with the hangover."

I take the tablets reluctantly, and I'm pleased when she leaves. I finish off the glass of water and set it down before I go to shower. The water wakes me up a bit, but it does make my stomach feel like it's flipping around.

I get dressed and run my hand through my hair. My beard is getting unruly again, but I can't be bothered to trim it. Everything seems pretty pointless without Arina.

I take the stairs two at a time as I come downstairs to the dining hall. Yvonne and Matvey are both there already eating.

I sit down, and Marie brings me a plate of food—fried eggs, French toast, baked beans, fried bacon, a chop, and three fried sausages.

I don't really feel like eating at first, but once I am underway, my stomach feels better for it.

Yvonne looks at me. "I'll book a trip to the barber for you. You need a shave again."

"I can shave myself," I mumble.

"Then why don't you?" she asks.

I glare at her and go back to my food.

Matvey doesn't say anything, but when it's time to leave for the meeting, he opts to go in his own car, and I'm thankful he does. I don't feel like entertaining my little siblings at the moment.

Alfie is sitting up front, and he turns around to hand me a folder. "The Estiva family. They own a lot of apartment buildings around Las Vegas, not to mention several businesses that hide their money laundering. They want to go into partnership with a resort."

"Arina dealt with this," I grumble.

Alfie falls silent, probably unsure what to say that won't set me off. It's best he just stays quiet.

I go over the reports in the folder and then put it beside me.

"Who from the family are we meeting today?" I ask.

"Paulo De Sousa. Everyone refers to him as the asshole, so he might push your buttons. We can always ask Matvay to handle this."

"No, I will deal with this asshole. Matvey can just stay and watch." I look out at the passing scenery.

When we arrive at the resort, I go upstairs to the fifth floor, where the offices are. I pass Arina's dark office, and my heart sinks further. I go past my own office and straight to the board room, where three men are waiting.

Matvey walks in after me and nods. "Paulo, Luke, Matthew. This is our leader, Igor Sidorov. You may refer to him as Mr. Sidorov for now."

I sit opposite them and look at them. "You propose to put in half a million dollars toward my new resort for thirty percent of the profit. That new resort cost me almost eight million dollars. You clearly don't do math very well."

Matvey puts a hand on my arm, but I yank my arm away. "You are insulting me if you think that I would give so much up for so little."

"We were assured you'd negotiate," the one in the middle says. He's older than the other two, so I assume he's Paulo.

"Paulo, is it?" I don't wait for an answer. "I'm willing to negotiate when the deal on the table is worth negotiating for. You want to give me half a million dollars, what do I need your money for? Do you know how much money my family has? Or are you simply underestimating me because I'm new to the city? Either way, I am insulted, and I should have you shot right now."

Matvey stares at me. "Igor…"

"Get out of my resort and take your insult of a proposal with you," I snap.

"You'll regret this," Paulo says. "We're a powerful family, and you don't have any allies in this city."

"I don't need allies. I have power." I stand up. I'm a head and a half taller than the short shit, and I'm definitely more muscular. He sizes me up, then nods to his men, and they leave.

"What the fuck, Igor?" Matvey says, standing up to me. "We were supposed to negotiate. It wasn't about the money. It was about the power that family has."

"You don't tell me how to run this family, Matvey," I growl, turning and poking him in the chest. "You've done nothing in this family's interest for a long time. One would think you're out to betray me."

"I have always been loyal to you," Matvey says, and I can see the hurt in his eyes.

"Until you tipped off the Milovs," I say.

"Oh fuck, this again. I said I was sorry. Jesus, ever since Arina decided to dump you, you've been on this homicidal rampage to ruin this family."

"Watch yourself, Matvey, or I'll wipe this floor with you," I growl, taking a step toward him.

"As if you could," Matvey growls back, taking a step toward me.

"Boys," Yvonne says from the door. "Matvey, why don't you check on deliveries for me while I speak to Igor?"

Matvey glares at me for a moment longer before he turns and leaves. I pour myself a glass of water and chug it down. Then another. Then I look at Yvonne. "I don't need a lecture."

"No, you don't want a lecture, but you definitely need one."

I leave the boardroom, and she follows me to my office.

"Igor, you can't push us all away because you're hurting," Yvonne says, sitting opposite my desk. I sit down and lean back.

"I'm not pushing anyone away."

"You're messing up business deals. You're not negotiating what's best for the family, you're aggressive all the time, and you're drunk all the time. Do I need to go on?" Yvonne leans forward to put her hand over mine, but I pull away.

"The deal was shit, Yvonne. I was going to let someone piss on our family for their own satisfaction, and Matvey should never have entertained that proposal to begin with."

"I know you miss her," Yvonne's voice is gentle. "But lashing out at everyone around you isn't the answer."

"She wants nothing to do with me, ever again," I say aloud, possibly for the first time since it happened. I feel it catch in my throat, and I swallow around the pain.

"I understand why you didn't tell her," Yvonne says after a long pause. "I understand why you thought you were protecting her and how much you loved her. How scared you were of losing her. But I also see Arina's side of things, Igor."

"What? That I lied to her? Everyone lies, Yvonne." I feel like a bratty kid who just had their toy taken away.

"Yes, but you lied to her about her family. The family she has wanted ever since she was a little girl. The family she thought she'd found in us. Didn't you notice how at ease she was with us? How much she enjoyed spending time with all of us together or each of us separately. She never had that opportunity as a child because it was taken from her."

I drum my fingers on the table and look at my little sister. "I know I should have told her, but it's too late now. The damage is done."

Yvonne stands up and comes around, kissing my head and then hugging it. "I know it feels that way, but that might not necessarily be true. Just give things some time."

I stand up and brush her off. "I'm going for a walk and to find something to drink."

"Are you getting drunk again?"

"Please, don't lecture me," I groan, walking past her and out of the office. I take the elevator to the lobby and head into the nearby bar. I sit at the bar and flag down the bartender, who recognizes me and hurries over.

"What will it be, sir?"

"Bottle of whiskey, something expensive. Put it on my suite's tab."

He brings the whiskey bottle and sets it in front of me with a shot glass. I pour a shot and down it.

I get through about four before someone sits beside me. I turn to look at Matvey, and he reaches for the bottle. "Tommy, give me a glass."

The bartender brings a shot glass, and Matvey pours himself a shot before filling my glass. He raises his. "I miss her, too, Igor. Even when she was a pain in the ass."

I clink my glass against his and sigh. "I know you meant well, and I should have handled it differently. I'm sorry I hit you."

"It's okay, I overstepped my mark."

"What is this? Us reconciling? Are we going soft in our old age?" I smile and fill both our glasses.

"Probably. Arina has a way of doing that to you. Bringing out your soft protective side." Matvey drains his glass. "But I can't lose you down a bottle every single day. Business has to keep going, so maybe you should take a leave of absence. If you don't trust me to run the business, then let Yvonne do it."

"I trust you," I say, looking at my little brother. "Even now, I trust you. That deal was bullshit, Matvey."

"Yeah, well, at least I thought it was a foot in the door. But that Paulo guy seems like an arrogant dickhead anyway." Matvey smiles and fills our glasses. "We're going to get drunk if we keep this up."

"I thought that was the plan," I chuckle.

We fall silent for a while before I turn to Matvey. "Do you think I still stand a chance?"

"With what? Paulo?" Matvey asks confused.

"No, with Arina," I groan. "Keep up. We're talking about my love life now."

Matvey pauses and fills our glasses. "I don't know. From what you have said, she was pretty pissed at you."

"Do you think I've lost her for good?" I ask quietly, playing with the glass in my hands.

"Maybe not," he says. "Maybe there's hope. I don't know. I've never really fallen in love with anyone before. I don't know what it's like."

"It's fucking horrible, is what it's like," I say.