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“…So what should we do, Your Highness?” his COO finished anxiously.
Vladimir blinked, realizing he hadn’t been listening to the man for the past ten minutes. But he suddenly felt bored by business matters—completely bored. Even though it involved his brother. “What is your opinion?”
“We’ll have someone at our Alaska site infiltrate your brother’s mining operation to see if the data is accurate. If it is, we can try to influence the political process to delay their building. We could even consider some kind of sabotage at the mine. Although of course it would in no way be traceable back to you, sir….”
You’re ruthless. And you revel in it. The realization of how low he’d sunk caused Vladimir to flinch. “No.”
“But, Your Highness…”
“I said no.” Clawing back his hair, he paced across his office with his phone at his ear, prowling in circles around his desk.
“So what are your orders, Your Highness? How shall we make sure your brother does not succeed?”
Vladimir abruptly stopped. He’d been wrong about Breanna.
Could he have similarly been wrong about Kasimir, overreacting to his brother’s betrayal?
It was an accident. His brother’s voice had been muffled, humble, on the phone the next day from St. Petersburg. When you wouldn’t believe me, I was angry and drunk at the airport bar. I didn’t realize the man sitting next to me was a reporter for the Anchorage Herald. Forgive me, Volodya.
Vladimir’s hands tightened into fists. But he hadn’t accepted the apology. He’d been angry, humiliated, haunted. And he feared his stupidity might jeopardize the Siberian mining rights that were about to come through, rights that could make or break the fledgling company. “If you can’t trust my leadership, we should end this partnership.”
“Leadership? I thought we were supposed to be equals,” his brother had retorted. When Vladimir maintained a frosty silence, Kasimir had said harshly, “Fine. I’ll keep the rights in Africa and South America. And you can go to hell.”
Vladimir had been angry enough to let his brother go without telling him about the Siberian rights worth potentially half a billion dollars. He’d effectively cheated Kasimir out of his half.
Perhaps… He took a deep breath. Perhaps Kasimir had some cause to seek revenge against him.
“You will do nothing.” Now, Vladimir stared out the window toward the palm trees and blue sky. “My brother’s operation in Alaska does not affect us. Leave him alone. May the best company win.”
“But, sir!”
“Xendzov Mining can win in a fair fight.”
“Of course we can!” the man replied indignantly. He continued in a bewildered voice, “It’s just that we’ve never tried.”
“No more dirty tricks,” Vladimir said harshly.
“It will be harder—”
“Deal with it.”
The man cleared his throat. “You were expected in St. Petersburg today for the signing of the Arctic Oil merger. How long do you wish us to delay…?”
Vladimir gritted his teeth. “I will be at the office tomorrow.”
“Good.” He audibly exhaled. “With ten billion dollars on the line, we don’t want anything to—”
“Tomorrow.” Vladimir hung up. Tossing his phone on his desk, he left the study, with its computers and piles of paperwork. Walking outside to the courtyard, he stopped by the pool. Closing his eyes, he turned his face toward the bright morning sun. He felt the warmth of the golden light, and took a breath of the exotic, flower-scented air.
I think the man I love is still inside you.
He’s dead and gone.
Are you sure?
Slowly, Vladimir opened his eyes. He looked up at the twenty-million-dollar mansion that he’d bought as a refuge, but which had felt like a prison.
Bree Dalton had brought it to life. As she’d done to him.
