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"Your assurances mean little when your house is in disarray," Russo shoots back, already turning on his heel.
"Wait," I call, stepping forward, the edge of command sharpening my voice. "We're more than this mistake. We're your best bet. You know what we can offer. You also need to be on American soil, and with your money as tarnished as it is, I am aware of people becoming afraid to take it. But I am not. We’ve all made mistakes, and you need me just as much as I need you.” Every word is precision-crafted, honed by years of navigating treacherous waters. “Plus, what would Ivan think if you just walked out without a second thought?”
Their steely gazes measure me, weighing my worth against the folly they've just witnessed. For a moment, silence hangs between us like a guillotine's blade, ready to sever hope from opportunity.
"Fix this, Zolotov," Anatoly Popov finally says, his voice as cold as a Siberian winter. "We will reschedule. But do not test our patience again."
I nod, relieved. "Thank you," I say before walking them out.
***
With rapid fingers, I enter the pin number for the lounge and walk in, stopping the two idiots right in action.
“Hey!” Veronika protests, trying to cover herself just as Lev shouts, “What the fuck?”
“Have you two completely lost your minds?” I glower at them. “Everyone saw you.”
“What?” Veronika screeches as Lev looks around and notices the blinds up.
“It was a mistake, brother,” he grins at me. “I think I pressed the wrong button on the remote while we were… you know,” he tries to explain.
"Lev, Veronika," I hiss, fixing my youngest brother with a glare that promises retribution. "Get dressed and meet me in my office. Now."
***
The door clangs shut with the finality of a prison cell, echoing through my office. My hands are fists at my sides as I observe them—Lev with his smug defiance and Veronika, her indignation written in every line of her carefully made-up face.
"Sit down," I ground out, not bothering to disguise the edge in my voice. I have no desire for false courtesies.
Veronika stands rigid, her arms crossed over her chest. "I don't think I will. You should have stopped us earlier."
"And you should have maintained your professional duties and stopped yourself from fucking my brother," I snap back, my gaze darting between her and Lev. "You two have putus on thin ice. Our name, our respect—it hangs by a thread because you couldn’t keep it professional!"
"Ah, Boris, come on—" Lev starts, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"No, you 'come on.' Do you realize what you've done? The investors? They're this close to pulling out!" I pinch my fingers in the air, the space minimal.
"Look, I didn't—" Lev tries again, only to falter under the heat of my glare.
"Didn't what? Think? That's right, you didn't." I turn to Veronika. "And you, I expected better."
"Expected better?" she hisses, her eyes flashing with anger. "You didn’t expect better from your brother, did you? How sexist is that?"
"I don’t pay my brother to work here,” I shoot back, the words like bullets from my mouth.
"You know what? I quit! Your brother fucked up with the blinds, and I’m the one who gets yelled at?" Veronika spits, throwing one last venomous look at Lev and me before storming out of the office, the door slamming in her wake.
"Are you happy now?" Lev mutters, finally sinking into the chair across from me. His body language screams defiance.
"Happy?" The word tastes like ash in my mouth. "You jeopardize everything we've worked for, and you ask if I'm happy?"
"Always so dramatic, brother," Lev retorts, crossing his arms. "We'll smooth it over. We always do."
"Smooth it over?" I echo incredulously. "This isn't some street brawl you can charm your way out of. This is the big leagues, Lev! Our future!"
"Your future, you mean," he shoots back, standing up again. His chair scraps against the floor, an irritating screech that matches the tension sparking between us.
"Damn right, it's my future! Our parents left this in my hands. I won't watch you burn it down!" My voice is a roar now, filling the room, bouncing off the walls. “I’m doing this for you, for Damien, for Anoushka.”
