Chapter 7 Ledger
LEDGER
She thinks I don’t notice.
I’m standing at my office window on the forty-second floor, coffee in hand, watching Savannah through the glass walls of the marketing department three floors down. She’s at her desk, head bent over her laptop, completely unaware that I can see her from here.
She’s avoiding me.
It’s driving me insane.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. When I pull it out, Alexi’s name glows on the screen.
Coming by the office. Lunch?
I text back: Yes. My office. Noon.
Savannah stands and stretches, then glances toward the elevators like she’s checking if the coast is clear. When she’s satisfied, she grabs her bag and heads for the south stairwell.
I smile despite myself. She’s stubborn. I’ll give her that.
My wife is stubborn. The thought still feels surreal. I’ve been married for nearly a month, and my wife doesn’t remember marrying me.
But she will. I’ll make sure of it.
Alexi walks into my office at noon, looking like he just rolled out of bed. Jeans, a T-shirt, hair still wet from the shower.
“You look terrible,” I tell him.
“Late night.” He grins and drops into the chair across from my desk. “Elena wanted to try this new club in Brooklyn. We didn’t get home until four AM.”
“Elena?”
“The girl I’m seeing. I told you about her.”
“You tell me about a lot of girls.”
“This one’s different.” He takes a grape from the fruit bowl on my desk. “She’s smart. Law student. Doesn’t take my shit.”
“Sounds like your type.”
“Sounds like your wife, actually.” He raises an eyebrow. “Speaking of, how’s the wife situation going?”
I lean back in my chair. “She’s avoiding me.”
“Can’t imagine why. You only dropped the marriage bomb on her in the middle of a work presentation.”
“I didn’t have a choice. She was about to have a panic attack.”
“Still.” Alexi shrugs. “You’ve got to admit, Dad, your approach could use some work.”
“What would you suggest?”
“I don’t know. Flowers? Dinner? Normal dating stuff?”
“We’re already married.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t remember that. So maybe treat it like you’re starting over.” He leans forward, serious now. “Can I see her?”
“Why?”
“Because you married her, and I want to know what kind of woman managed to get you to do something that insane.” He grins. “Plus, I have good eyes. I can tell you what you see in her.”
“You already know what I see in her.”
“Yeah, but I want to confirm it in person.”
I check my watch. Savannah should be coming back from the stairwell any minute now. “Fine. But behave.”
“I always behave.”
We take the elevator down to the fortieth floor, and I time it perfectly. Savannah is walking down the hallway, head down, focused on her phone.
“Savannah,” I call out.
She freezes. Turns. Her face goes through about five emotions in two seconds before landing on polite professionalism.
“Mr. Volkov.” She nods at me, then notices Alexi. “Hello.”
“Savannah, this is my son, Alexi. Alexi, this is Savannah.”
Alexi extends his hand with that easy charm he inherited from his mother. “It’s nice to meet you. Dad’s told me a lot about you.”
She shakes his hand, looking confused. “Okay…?”
He’s grinning now, and I know exactly what he’s doing. “You’re the marketing genius, right? Dad said you nailed the Q4 presentation.”
“I…didn’t finish the presentation, actually.”
“Well, whatever you did, he was impressed.” Alexi glances at me. “He doesn’t impress easily.”
Savannah looks at me, and I keep my expression neutral.
“It’s nice to meet you, Alexi,” she says finally. “But I should get back to work.”
“Of course. Don’t let us keep you.” Alexi steps back. “Maybe we’ll see you around.”
She nods and walks away quickly, practically fleeing.
Once she’s out of earshot, Alexi whistles low. “Dad. She’s gorgeous.”
“I know.”
“No, like, really gorgeous. And she seems smart. Put-together. The kind of woman who has her life figured out.”
“She doesn’t.”
“What?”
“Have her life figured out.” I watch her disappear around the corner. “Her mother died three months ago. Her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend. She moved to New York to start over, and then I walked into her life and told her we’re married.”
Alexi is quiet for a moment. “Damn.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t give up, then.”
The meeting is at 3:00 PM in a conference room at the Mandarin Oriental. A real estate deal I’ve been working on for months. Prime property in Midtown, perfect for my next hotel development.
Silas is with me, along with my lawyers. The sellers are already there when we arrive, three men in expensive suits who stand when I enter.
“Mr. Volkov.” The lead seller, James Peterson, shakes my hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“Let’s get this done.”
We sit, and Peterson pulls out the contracts. “Everything’s in order. We’re ready to sign as soon as—”
The door opens, and Dmitri Kozlov walks in.
The temperature in the room drops about twenty degrees. My lawyers exchange glances. Silas’s hand moves toward his jacket, but I shake my head slightly.
Not here. Not now.
Dmitri stops when he sees me. For a long moment, we just stare at each other, five years of hatred hanging in the air between us.
Then he smiles. “Ledger Volkov. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Dmitri.” I keep my voice even. “I didn’t know you were involved in this deal.”
“I could say the same.” He takes a seat across from me, casual as anything. Like we’re old friends instead of enemies. “Mr. Peterson, you didn’t mention Mr. Volkov would be here.”
Peterson looks like he wants to crawl under the table. “I…both parties expressed interest. I thought—”
“You thought you could play us against each other,” Dmitri finishes. “Drive up the price.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s exactly what you thought.” I lean back in my chair. “And it was stupid.”
Dmitri nods. “Agreed. Very stupid.”
Peterson is sweating now. “Gentlemen, perhaps we can discuss this civilly—”
“We are being civil,” Dmitri says. “If we weren’t, Mr. Peterson, you’d know it.”
Peterson’s lawyers look ready to bolt.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text to my accountant. Then I look at Dmitri. “I’ll buy you out. Name your price.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. We both know this deal can’t move forward with both of us involved. So one of us walks away, or neither of us gets the property.” I slide my phone across the table. “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
Dmitri looks at the number. His expression doesn’t change, but I see the calculation in his eyes. He’s weighing whether the money is worth giving me the win.
Finally, he nods. “Deal.”
“Smart choice.”
“Don’t mistake this for weakness, Volkov.” He stands, buttoning his jacket. “We still have unfinished business.”
“I’m aware.”
“Good.” He turns to Peterson. “Mr. Peterson, pleasure doing business with you. Though I’d suggest being more careful about who you invite to the same meeting in the future.” He leaves, and the tension drains from the room.
Peterson looks like he might pass out. “Mr. Volkov, I apologize. I had no idea—”
“You should have.” I turn to my lawyers. “Draw up the paperwork. I want this closed by the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir.”
Silas follows me out of the hotel. Once we’re in the car, he says, “That was too close.”
“It was fine.”
“He’s in the city, boss. That’s not a coincidence.”
“I know.”
“You think he knows about her?”
I think about Savannah and how exposed she is, working in my building, living in an apartment I could find in thirty seconds.
“Not yet,” I say. “But he will eventually.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Increase security around the building. Discreetly. I don’t want her knowing.”
“And if he makes a move?”
“Then we’ll handle it.” I look out the window at the city passing by. “But not until I figure out how to make my wife remember she married me.”
Silas is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “You really care about her.”
“I married her.”
“You also married her in a Vegas chapel on a drunken whim. That’s not exactly a declaration of eternal love.”
He’s not wrong. But he’s not entirely right either.
“She’s mine,” I say simply. “And that’s all that matters.”
I’m in my office two days later when I get the report. Savannah worked until 9:00 PM last night, took the south stairwell down, and caught a cab home. Same routine as last week.
She’s still avoiding me.
I pull up the security footage from the marketing department, watch her at her desk, typing away, completely focused.
She’s good at her job. Better than good, actually.
The reports she’s been turning in are sharp, insightful, and exactly what I need for the Q4 campaigns.
My wife is smart. Beautiful. Stubborn as hell.
And I’m running out of patience.
I pick up my office phone and dial her extension.
She answers on the third ring. “Savannah Castellanos.”
“Ms. Castellanos. This is Ledger Volkov.”
Silence.
“Mr. Volkov. How can I help you?” So formal. So professional.
“I need you to accompany me on a business trip,” I say. “Chicago. Three days. We leave Monday morning.”
“I…Chicago?”
“Hotel acquisition. I need someone from marketing to assess the property and the local market. You’re the best person for the job.”
“I’m sure someone else could—”
“I’m not asking someone else. I’m asking you.” I let authority slip into my voice. The tone that makes people jump. “Be ready Monday at six AM. My driver will pick you up.”
“Mr. Volkov—”
“That’s all, Ms. Castellanos. Have a good weekend.” I hang up before she can argue.
Silas walks in a moment later. “Did you just assign her to a business trip?”
“I did.”
“To Chicago? Where she used to live?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t think that’s going to freak her out?”
“Probably.” I lean back in my chair. “But she can’t avoid me forever. And if she won’t come to me, I’ll make sure we’re in the same place with no escape route.”