Chapter 33

"You're sure about this, Mr. Petrov?" my lawyer says over the phone. If he wasn't safely tucked away in his office on the other side of town, he'd probably have less nerve to question me.

"I am. Make it happen." I slam the phone down and throw back my drink. It doesn't burn enough.

Yanking open my desk drawer, I pull out the envelope I've kept in this drawer since my mother's passing.

Her last attempt to reconcile with her family when she became ill. Grandmother never opened it. The letter was returned still sealed, Return to Sender scribbled on the top.

My phone dances on my desk with a message from Maxim. He's been in charge of taking Cora wherever she wants to go and keeping her safe.

I flip the phone over to read the message.

She's on a job interview. Receptionist at doctor's office.

I fist the phone, wanting to hurl the fucking thing across the room. I've given her too much space. Too much time.

She's getting a job?

Yesterday, he took her to register for classes. She starts next week.

If she wants to finish her degree, she can't be wasting her time answering phones. She should be focusing on her studies.

"Hey. You're here. Good." Andrei saunters into my office, Viktor trails behind him.

"Where else would I be?" I argue, shoving from my chair. "Did you get him?"

"He's downstairs." Viktor nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Are you sure you want to do this here? I mean, it can get messy."

I pour another drink down my throat.

"It won't get messy. Not that kind of meeting." I pour one more, still chasing the burn. If I can get it to hurt enough, maybe I can forget the pain and agony in Cora's eyes. Maybe I can make the memories of her hurt blur enough to tolerate the distance she's put between us.

No. The distance I've allowed her to put between us.

Letting her move into the guest wing after her mother's things were removed seemed like the compassionate thing at the time. But it was the wrong move.

"Let's go." I lead my cousins through the house down to the basement where they've stashed Oleg.

I wave away Dimitri standing guard at the door where Oleg's no doubt panicking. Being locked in a small room, even one as nice as the game room, can't feel comforting.

Oleg jumps to his feet from the couch when he sees me enter through the door. His eyes, wild with fear, chase my movements as I walk further into the room, allowing Andrei and Viktor to follow me.

"You have been a hard man to find." I grab a folding chair that's leaning against a card table. "Sit down." I wave at the couch.

His eyes never leave me as I set up the chair and plunk down into it, close enough to him that I can break his nose if the need arises. Or the desire.

"Sit the fuck down. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead." I jerk my hand at the couch.

He sinks into the leather sofa. Fear rolls off him in a sour scent.

"He looks good. Didn't even bruise him, huh?" I say to Andrei and Viktor behind me.

"He didn't fight much. Just whined a lot." Viktor's voice drips with disappointment. After the chase this bastard gave us, I'm sure he wanted to at least get the chance to break one of his teeth.

"I don't know why you're looking for me."

I stare at him. His black hair is slicked back from his face. There's no resemblance here. Nothing about him reminds me of my mother's family.

"I bet she didn't appreciate your tattoo." I tap the spot on my neck that mirrors where he has a snake's head.

"She didn't," he agrees with a firm nod. "What do you want, Sergei?" he demands.

I lean back, taking in a breath. "You know Victoria is gone, right? And she's not coming back to Chicago. Ever." I press my hands into my thighs, forcing myself to remain calm.

That woman has caused more trouble than she has ever been worth. She can't hold a candle to Cora.

"I heard. You had her dragged out of here." He sneers. "Is that what you're doing with me? It won't work. My claim to Kustov Metals is just as legitimate as yours."

"Is it?" I cock my head. "While Victoria has been doing her damnedest to get me to forget what a lying, manipulative con artist she is, I've been doing some digging. She actually helped; thinking that she was winning me over, she turned on you just enough to give me what I needed." I bring out my phone and swipe it to life. "I thought it was weird the old woman didn't include you in the inheritance. It was even more odd she included me at all, and then she put that stipulation on it." I continue swiping until I find the information I'm looking for.

"She wanted to make amends, I think," he says, but his voice falters. Fucking asshole never learned how to lie properly.

"Not at all." I laugh. "She was a heartless witch to the end. Her back has been turned on my family because of my mother's marriage to a Petrov man. I always believed it was because he was involved in the mafia. But I was wrong."

Oleg's throat works as he swallows hard. "I don't have anything to do with what she did to your mother."

I nod in agreement. "That's true." I find the document and open it. "It wasn't that my father was a Petrov, it's that he wasn't an Antonov. They had business dealings with Gregor Antonov already, and her marrying into the Petrov family would have been very bad for their business. They cut her off so they could keep their relationship with the family and keep all the government protection that came with their connections back home. It helps when you have one third of your business tied up in arms distributions."

"What does this have to do with me?" His voice cracks.

"Nothing." I lift a shoulder. "After we were cut out, you should have been next in line. That's what should have happened."

"But it didn't." He snorts.

"No," I admit. "You were cut. Why?"

"I don't know!" Like a teenage boy, he whines.

"But you do." I toss my phone into his lap. He picks it up, turning it until he can read the document. The color drains from his cheeks as he realizes what he's looking at.

"You are not a Kustov."

Slowly he brings his eyes to me. "How did you get this?"

"Like I said, Victoria was helpful." I reach across and grab my phone back. "Your mother married my uncle and was already pregnant with some other poor bastard's baby. You have no blood relation to the Kustov family. So your claims have no standing."

"So you went and tried to get a fucking detective, who works on a force we have in our pockets, to start causing trouble for us," Andrei booms behind me. "You wanted to get the Feds to tie him up in some investigation. Did you actually think you'd get them to find something they could use on him, or us?"

"Or that any of us would actually go to fucking prison?" Viktor adds, his anger clouding the air.

"No." I lean back again. "He didn't. He was hoping that I'd be so twisted up with legal trouble that I wouldn't fight his legal claims."

"Victoria said you'd have no interest in the company if you were busy trying to save the Petrov family," Oleg spits out.

I put my hand up when he looks ready to spew out everything she convinced him of.

"She was wrong. She always is." I shake my head. "She went after you because she thought you'd be inheriting the company eventually, right?"

He frowns. "Yeah. I assume."

"And then she found out you weren't blood related and that would make it more difficult for you to tear the company from me."

He nods. "Grandmother found out years ago, and she said it didn't matter. She said I was still family. But when it came to the business, she fucking gave it away." He crinkles his face up in disgust. "To you."

"Yeah. Me," I huff. "Maybe she put that stipulation on it so that I'd end up marrying someone I didn't like or even know. She knew the Petrovs have never had a divorce in their family line, and maybe she thought it would be punishment enough if I ended up in a bad marriage."

He looks down, shaking his head.

"What are you going to do now?" He raises his chin, rolling his shoulders back. A pretense at courage.

"I wanted to destroy the company. Tear it apart piece by piece until the name Kustov was buried forever." I scroll through my phone again and bring up the documents my attorney sent me. "But I'm not going to do that."

"What?" He wrinkles his brow.

"I don't give a shit about the company, and I don't want anything from that woman." I hand him back the phone. "I do want the arms division, though. The Petrov company will purchase the division for basically nothing. The other two divisions will remain under the Kustov Metals holding company."

He scrolls through the document trying to read the legal jargon. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You're taking the rest of the company. You'll have the majority shares. I'm signing it all over to you."

"But the year?—"

"The purchase of the arms division will be completed this afternoon after the board signs off on the sale. Tomorrow, I'm going to break the stipulation, and the rest of the company will roll over to you. The board has already been informed of the change and they will be waiting for you tomorrow at noon for your initial meeting. Everything you need will be there."

His eyes go wide as he finishes skimming the documents. "You're just giving it back to me."

"As far as anyone knows, you're a Kustov. No one knows the truth about that. Grandmother at least had the decency to take that to her grave. The company rolls to you. And the estates in Russia will revert to you as well."

"Why are you doing this?" he demands. Smart to be suspicious.

I stand up, taking my phone back from him, and shove it into my back pocket. "I want to."

"Sergei," Andrei puts a hand on my shoulder as I pass him.

"It's done." I grab his shoulder and squeeze. "I have something more important to deal with right now. Put him back where you found him, yes?"

Andrei nods. "You got it, cousin."

Viktor gives an approving grunt.

"Good," I say.

Taking a deep breath, I shoot Maxim a text telling him to bring Cora home. No excuses. No delays.

The next order of business needs to be dealt with.

And I've never been more nervous in my fucking life.