Chapter 8 Trust
Chapter eight
Trust
Maxim chewed his lip as he rode the elevator. He was meeting his brother today to give details about Emilio. Lazar was the CEO of the company and stayed in the office on the top floor, while Maxim was the one busting his ass to get them reliable resources. But Maxim gladly took on the role.
After their parents died, Lazar, who was sixteen at the time, had to be the one to take over the family. And he did it without complaint. He worked hard for over twenty years. It was only right that, now that Maxim was older, he took on more responsibility.
Maxim adjusted the silver cuff at his wrist before he entered.
Lazar was particular about how he wanted his men to look, having them dress in tailored, name-brand suits.
Where Maxim was frugal with money, Lazar was loose, spending without care, if only to give the appearance of having more money than they did.
His thought was that if people believed they had money, then they would be more than willing to support the company because they saw it had a great return on investment.
The theory hadn’t been proven wrong yet. People threw money at Lazar, hoping to double or even triple their investments.
The office had a grand fish tank in the corner with exotic fish that cost nearly a million dollars.
All the furniture was made from pure leather, crafted from the finest skins.
Maxim tried his hardest to stop his brother from overspending, but Lazar was always too eager to waste money.
The man took what he wanted, and that was the end of it.
Lazar was smoking a cigar (expensive and exotic, of course) when Maxim entered. “Max!” He popped up from his chair. “Tell me we have new friends with the Italians.”
Maxim had hoped to have good news, and if Kira hadn’t said anything, he might have walked in with a smile on his face.
However, Kira’s last words the other day had lingered with him.
Thankfully, he had placed a recording device under the table and then hired an Italian translator to review the entire thing. “Not really.”
Lazar deflated. “I hate Italians. They think they are the only ones who know how to do business.” He sat in his chair, and Maxim tossed him the file so he could see for himself the double-crossing and the ridiculous amount of insults.
Lazar sat back.
Maxim knew that look. Lazar did not deal with disappointment well, and he certainly didn’t like to be insulted. “So that’s what they think, huh?”
“It’s not entirely untrue.”
Lazar scanned the words again, trying to find any factual statement in the lies, and slapped the paper down. “You did not marry above your station. This family is worthy of Morozov’s money and attention.”
Maxim didn’t argue. But his silence only pushed Lazar. He blew out smoke, eyeing his brother. “Do you think you did?”
“I am no billionaire.” Maxim sighed, taking a seat.
He had said this multiple times before, but it seemed now that Lazar finally heard him.
This was his worry, that people wouldn’t respect him by marrying so far up the ladder.
They would see him as a gold digger, a position traditionally reserved for women.
“What does that matter? You think money is what makes you worthy? Our family has consistently demonstrated that we are among the elite. We’ve been knocked down, but we always rise!
Don’t you see? We don’t have billions, and yet we still outperform half of those billionaires who rely on stocks, bonds, and their family’s money.
We made our fortune out of nothing! We are first-generation multi-millionaires.
Do you know how rare that is? All these fucking families have been around for hundreds of years. But we-we are the new age.”
Maxim nodded, smiling, agreeing because disagreeing wasn’t worth the aftermath. But Lazar didn’t understand.
Lazar married his girlfriend immediately after high school.
She was his equal. But Maxim had a woman who was so far above him that there was no ladder high enough to reach her.
Not only financially, but also educationally.
He had graduated from a random online school with a Bachelor’s degree in business, earning average and unremarkable grades.
He didn’t know any instruments or languages.
The only reason he was successful in his career was that Lazar didn’t allow him to fail.
Kira’s upbringing had been so different from his. And she flaunted it, buying whatever her heart desired, transforming his entire house into her daydreams. She had no worry about money. Not one ounce of fear that it won’t be there tomorrow.
“Any improvement with the wife?”
Maxim stood, pretending not to hear. “I think another circuit would be beneficial.”
“Avoiding it, huh?”
“If the Italians are falling through, I want to go after their customers.”
Lazar stood up, coming around the desk. “You know what? That’s a great idea. And your wife, who speaks multiple languages, would be wonderful to bring along.”
“Lazar–”
He put his hands on Maxim’s shoulders. “I simply want to point out that she is with you now for eternity. You cannot avoid her forever.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” Maxim knocked off his hand and went for the door. “A couple of months is hardly anything. I’m sure she’ll be happy to be rid of me so she can destroy the house even further.”
“I love what she did with it. And you would too if you would stop being so prideful!”
The door slammed, and Maxim went for the elevator.
Prideful. He scoffed. It wasn’t pride. It was self-respect.
Which is possibly another word for pride.
Lazar thought it pride or ego for not trusting Kira.
But his brother didn’t know that he already had proof of her infidelity.
And though that proof was more rumor than actual evidence, it didn’t change it.
Kira couldn’t admit that she slept with someone because it would have given him allowance to divorce her.
The actual proof he needed was waiting for him to find.
The hotel in which Kira had stayed for her bachelorette party refused to give him the evidence without a warrant and no amount of threats had worked.
Beating up Kira’s whore hadn’t gotten him a confession either. The man backed up Kira’s story.
Maxim didn’t need physical evidence to be convinced. Women were natural liars, and she was born with a bloodline that made her better than most.
He pressed the elevator button, but the doors opened simultaneously.
Lazar’s wife, Trina, stood there with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Maxim cursed his luck. Then he turned for the stairs.
“Wait.”
He froze, glaring ahead, trying not to feel the weight of her gaze.
Trina had beautiful hazel eyes, and if stared at, they could drag you into a hell you can’t crawl out of.
She had changed her hair since the last time Maxim saw her.
Big, highlighted curls, and he wasn’t going to lie, it looked good on her.
“How are you?”
“Fine.” He forced himself to turn around. Trina wore a red suit and high heels. She always knew how to dress. “What are you doing here?”
She held up a bag. “I made lunch.”
He snorted. “What a wife.”
Trina bowed her head. The silence stretched, and Maxim was over it.
He approached, slowly, to a point that he could see every muscle in her tense. “I take it you haven’t told him?”
Her head lifted in desperation. “Please, Maxim.”
“Two months ago, I walked in on you fucking another man–”
“Shhh, oh god, stop, please.”
“You said you would stop. And you didn’t. Last week, I confronted you, and you said you were going to leave Lazar. So what the fuck are you doing here-” He slapped the food out of her hand. “Acting like a good fucking wife?”
Trina was quick to kneel down and pick up the food, putting the sandwich back together and rewrapping the foil.
He despised how her tears came. Maxim felt little pity for her because her betrayal hit him hard, too.
For years, he envied Lazar and Trina. They were the perfect couple, the kind that were typically fabricated in love stories.
They met at a dinner party, and their love was instant.
Maxim had been there for most of it, invited as a third wheel.
He had been present when Lazar proposed and stood as the best man in their wedding.
For a long time, he had been jealous that Lazar had met her first. Perhaps he had even felt something for her at one point, but it was snuffed out, quickly destroyed.
Now she was hideous, and he wished he didn’t know her.
Trina rubbed at her cheek and sniffed before she stood. “I ended it. It was a mistake, please understand. Lazar isn’t the easiest person–”
“Don’t talk shit about my brother. You don’t want to go there.”
She clamped her lips shut and bowed her head.
“I’m leaving for a month. If you don’t tell him by the time I get back, I will.”
Trina’s lip trembled. “He’ll kill me.”
“I can only hope.”