7. Power Plays and Pominki #3
“Since Vladimir is currently unable to fulfill his duties,” I said, resting my hands flat on the table, “I’ve submitted a formal request to the Board of Romanov Insurance.”
Silence took over, as though the room itself were running out of air.
“I’ve recommended the appointment of interim leadership until he recovers.”
Irina’s fork hit her plate with a sharp clatter. “What?”
It was the first unvarnished emotion she had shown all afternoon. I met her look without breaking stride.
“Romanov Insurance can’t run without a helm indefinitely.”
“It has directors,” she snapped.
“I’m aware.”
“They can handle it.”
“For how long?” I shook my head. “Holding the wheel isn’t the same as driving.”
Irina’s eyes narrowed into dark slits. “What are you really proposing, Zhenya?”
I glanced at Father before answering. “That Romanov Insurance be placed under temporary executive oversight.”
Mikhail leaned forward now, his gaze sharp and calculating. “By whom?”
“My office.”
A heavy beat passed without a sound.
Then Mikhail let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “You can’t be serious.”
“I rarely joke.”
His faint smile wiped clean. “Romanov Insurance isn’t yours.”
“No.”
“It’s Vladimir’s.”
“And Vladimir is currently unconscious in a hospital bed.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to step in—”
“It gives me a reason.”
Mikhail planted both forearms on the table. “And who authorized this?”
“I did.”
“That isn’t how a transition works.”
“I know.” I reached for my water, taking a measured sip before returning the glass to the tablecloth. “Which is why the paperwork was processed before we sat down.”
Irina had been nervously twisting her napkin; now her fingers flew to her mouth, her thumb pressing against her lip. “…You already filed it?”
“This morning.”
Mikhail’s chair shrieked against the marble as he stood up. “You’ve completely lost your mind.”
“If you were this invested in the company’s stability,” I said, keeping my tone level, “you should have stepped up before now.”
That hit the mark. His composure cracked right open. “I don’t answer to you.”
“No. You answer to the board.”
“You think Father will actually let this stand?”
“I don’t need to guess. I know.”
“You’re taking advantage of Vladimir.”
“I’m securing his legacy.”
“By stealing it?”
“Temporary stewardship isn’t theft.”
“It is when your name is on the ledger.”
Across the table, Svetlana finally weighed in. “This isn’t about Romanov Insurance anymore.”
Mikhail glared at her, but she didn’t back down.
“I think the two of you stopped talking about business several minutes ago.”
Anka shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flicking between us. “Can we… please not do this today?”
Nobody paid her any mind. Mikhail’s focus remained locked on me.
“You’ve been waiting for a chance like this for years,” he spat.
“No. I simply dislike seeing critical assets neglected.”
His jaw set hard. “You self-righteous—”
“Enough.”
Father didn’t raise his voice, but the single word cut cleanly through the tension. Everyone went dead still.
He stared at Mikhail first. “Sit.”
Mikhail hesitated, his knuckles white against the back of his chair.
“I said sit.”
Slowly, Mikhail sank back into his seat. Father’s gaze shifted to me next, his face a complete mask.
“And you. We will discuss this later. Not at this table. Not today.”
The silence settled back over the room—thicker this time.
* * *
The pominki wound down just over two hours after it began. Servants cleared the table in silence, taking away the leftover bowls of kutya, slowly restoring White Manor to a home rather than a battlefield draped in black.
Svetlana left first, Anka trailing closely behind with a poorly disguised yawn. I instructed Olga to stay until the estate was properly locked down before heading back to the penthouse.
Outside, the late afternoon was already giving way to dusk.
I was halfway down the front steps when a sharp voice cut through the air. “Zhenya.”
Irina. She wasn’t just walking; she was marching, her heels striking the stone steps with enough force to announce her temper before she reached me.
She skipped the pleasantries entirely. “What exactly are you trying to pull?”
I slipped my hands into my pockets. “You’ll need to be more specific.”
“The insurance company.” Her voice edged higher. “My son built Romanov Insurance from the ground up.”
“He inherited it,” I corrected gently.
Her jaw snapped shut. “He expanded it.”
“And then he neglected it.”
“You have no right—”
“I have every right.”
She closed the distance between us. “Vladimir is lying in a hospital bed because of you.”
“He is in a hospital bed because he laid a hand on my fiancé.”
Her expression didn’t flinch. “As his brother, you should have disciplined him.”
“As his brother…” A faint smile touched my mouth. “…I broke the fingers he used to commit the offense rather than taking the whole hand.”
She stared at me, rigid. “You call that mercy?”
“I do.”
For the first time all day, unvarnished anger flickered in her eyes. “You’ve always believed the world bends to you simply because you’re the wealthiest Romanov.”
“No. It bends because I make better decisions.”
She let out a single, humorless laugh. “And you think you can just walk in and claim Vladimir’s life’s work?”
“If the shareholders approve the motion…” I offered a slight shrug. “…yes.”
“You’ll destroy everything he built.”
“If that’s true,” I said, meeting her look directly, “then perhaps he should have spent less time attempting to drug people and more time managing his firm.”
Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “You’ve crossed a line today, Zhenya.”
“I crossed it the second Vladimir touched Nikolai.”
A heavy quiet fell between us. She started to raise a finger, pointing at me, before letting her hand drop back to her side. For a fraction of a second, she looked almost disappointed. Then she turned on her heel and walked away without another word.
I watched her vanish toward her waiting car.
“You certainly have a talent for collecting enemies.”
Mother. I hadn’t even heard her step onto the gravel.
She paused beside me, her eyes tracking Irina’s Mercedes as it pulled through the gates.
“I don’t make enemies,” I replied, adjusting the cuff over my bandaged hand. “People simply elect to become mine.”
Mother sighed. “I’m going to need a full explanation for everything that transpired in that dining room.” Her gaze moved to my hand, then back to my face. “The board request. Inessa. The entire theatrical production.”
“Not tonight, Mother.”
I checked my phone. A text from Nikolai had just come through:
Pavel left for his night shift. I’m alone again.
A small smiley face sat at the end of the line, sparking a quiet warmth in my chest.
“I have somewhere I need to be.”
Mother caught the shift in my expression and smiled knowingly. “So that’s where your head has been all afternoon.”
I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “We’ll speak tomorrow.”
Before she could object, I turned toward the driveway where Lev was already standing with the rear door open.