Chapter Fifty-Two
Maro n
"How are you feeling?" Mindy asks me in the limo.
"Like shit," I confess. "The suit is uncomfortable and I’m freaking the fuck out."
It’s true. I don’t get nervous very often, but tonight is different. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and the tension in my shoulders is building as we get closer to our destination. The stakes are high tonight. I can’t afford any fuckups.
A smile appears on Mindy's lips as she leans in and plants a kiss on my neck. "Everything will be okay, Maron. I just know it."
"It better be." I smirk at her reassuringly, even though I don’t know if I can fully agree with her. There’s a strange sensation nagging at me, making me edgy. It’s as if something was off. Have I forgotten something? Why am I feeling this way ever since we got into the back of the limo?
I reach for my phone and dial the first number on my list. It's Igor, my main chemist and the brains behind Tramoxine. He's the one who is going to give a speech alongside me when we present the medicine to the audience.
"Igor, you on your way?" I ask.
"Da, pakhan," he assures me. "I'll be there in half an hour."
" Khoroshiy. You got your speech ready?"
"I do. It will be like a miniskirt. Short but covers all the important parts," he jokes, but it doesn’t ease the tension building in me.
"Make sure you emphasize the no-alcohol warning."
"Don't worry, pakhan . I'll drill it into those thick Bratva heads."
“Good. See you there, bratok .”
I cut the call with Igor and move on to calling the next person on my list; Maurice. I dial his number and it rings once, rings twice, then goes to voicemail. I roll my eyes. Typical Maurice. I slide the phone back into my pocket, clenching my jaw. Why the fuck isn't he answering? He knows well how important this evening is.
I lean back on my seat and close my eyes for a moment, in an attempt to reclaim my cool. I feel Mindy moving closer, her hand squeezing mine reassuringly.
Calm the fuck down, dolboyob.
You’re no good if you’re on edge all evening.
I spend the next twenty minutes taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves. I try calling Maurice again in the meantime, but the only thing I can get hold of is his voicemail. Whatever. Maybe his battery went dead or he’s passing through an area where there’s no reception. I just hope he’s got the brains to be there on time, and as we agreed. But even if he bails on me like he did many times in the past, I can orchestrate the evening without him. I haven’t left anything to chance tonight.
By the time we arrive, my nerves are relatively calm. The moment Mindy and I step out of the sleek limousine, the flashbulbs of the paparazzi explode like a thousand stars. The air crackles with excitement outside Hotel Belmont, where throngs of press eagerly await our arrival.
The evening will be split into two parts. The first, a lavish affair held in the opulent Golden Room, celebrates the premiere of Shadows of the City , the latest jewel in my media empire's crown. My event team at Global Media has meticulously organized this movie night, ensuring that every detail reflects the grandeur of the occasion. All the A-list actors, producers, and film crew are in attendance, ready to bask in the spotlight. The atmosphere is electric, and anticipation fills the air as we prepare to showcase the film to the world.
But beneath the glitz and glamour lies the secret that really sets my blood on fire. While people mingle in the Golden Room downstairs, true power gathers in the Silver Room above. There, hidden from prying eyes, we're about to unleash Tramoxine upon the world. The panacea cure for millions suffering from depression, PTSD, insomnia, and other mental health conditions. This is the true miracle of the evening. The movie launch is merely a distraction, drawing attention away from the real purpose of this event.
Anticipation courses through my veins like liquid adrenaline. Everything has been meticulously planned, down to the last detail. Me, Maurice, and my team have orchestrated this dual event with a finesse that makes the Superbowl look like a backyard barbecue.
As I guide Mindy through the crowd, I lean in close to her ear. "Go up to the Silver Room," I whisper. "I'll handle the press and join you shortly."
She nods, squeezing my hand before slipping away towards the elevators.
As soon as she disappears, the press swarms around me. Cameras begin to flash in a blinding frenzy, and microphones are thrust into my face from every possible direction. The cacophony of voices crashes over me, each question more insistent than the last.
"Mr. Korolev, how do you feel about the public's anticipation for Shadows of the City ?"
"Can you tell us more about your role in the production of the film?"
"What are your expectations for the film's success at the box office?"
"Are there any upcoming projects you can share with us?"
"How was it working with the cast and crew of Shadows of the City ?"
I answer their questions like a pro, with smooth confidence. It's a routine I've mastered over the years, teasing them with tidbits of information without revealing too much. It's all about keeping them interested and wanting more, while still keeping my true purpose and my identity hidden.
As I fight my way through the crowd of journalists, answering their questions, I notice a face I instantly recognize. Mindy’s sister, Alexis Williams, stands at the edge of the crowd, her piercing gaze locking onto mine. She’s changed since I last saw her, when she stormed into the dressing room of New York High with wild eyes and a shrill voice. She was high as fuck then, now she’s the complete opposite. The disheveled and desperate woman is gone, replaced by a polished and poised journalist. But the sickening glint of steel in her eyes is still there.
Sensing my recognition, Alexis makes her move. With the determined stride of a predator, she weaves through the throng of reporters, shouldering past her colleagues until she's standing right in front of me. Before I can slip away into the crowd and disappear, she thrusts her microphone in my face.
"Mr. Korolev, can you share with us the potential pros and cons of Tramoxine, your new psychedelic pill that's about to hit the market?"
What the fuck?
How does she know about Tramoxine?
I'm sure that the shock on my face is visible from a mile away. I have to grind my teeth to keep myself from snapping her neck where she stands. How? How the fuck did she find out about this? This was supposed to be disguised as a movie event! Only a select few know about the Tramoxine launch tonight. How the fuck did the information get out? And if she knows, who else does?
Chert voz’mi!
My mind is racing. Surely, Mindy wouldn't betray me like this, would she? Who else in my circles knows Alexis? Maybe Mindy accidentally mentioned something to her during one of their sister chats?
All eyes in the crowd are on me. There are more microphones in my face than I can count. But despite the shock and rage coursing through my veins, I manage to maintain my composure. I take a deep breath, my face an impassive mask as I carefully formulate my response.
"This is the opening ceremony of a film, miss. You are at the wrong event."
Alexis flashes her brightest smile. "I can assure you, Mr. Korolev, I am at the right event." She presses on. "How do you address concerns about your illegal activities and how does this affect your public image?"
Illegal activities?
Motherfucker!
I can see what she’s doing from a mile away, but I refuse to take the bait. "Unfortunately, rumors and misinformation are all too common in my line of work," I tell her calmly. "I prefer to let my actions speak for themselves rather than engaging in speculation."
I push past her in an attempt to end the conversation, but she’s back in front of me before I can disappear. Then she delivers the final blow.
"Mr. Korolev, can you provide any information about the alleged sex contract between yourself and Mindy Williams and its implications?"
Blyad.
This is bad.
Very fucking bad.
I’m lost for words. How she got wind of this information is fucking beyond me. Except it’s not. The worst thing about this isn’t the question itself or the fact that she’s asking it in front of a thousand people. The worst thing is that only two people are supposed to know about my contract with Mindy. Just Mindy and me. And I certainly haven’t ever mentioned it to anyone. Which can only mean…
She betrayed you, mudak.
She told her sister about the contract.
She also told her about Tramoxine.
And now, the fucking press knows.
I want to explode with rage. It takes every fucking ounce of control I have to force a professional smile and answer her question without lashing out and doing something that would only make matters worse. Could Mindy really do this to me? After everything we’ve been through? Maybe it’s all a misunderstanding. Maybe there is an explanation to all of this.
"I'm afraid I cannot comment on baseless rumors," I tell Alexis, forcing calmness into my tone. "This is a film premiere, miss. Let’s keep our focus on that." My eyes scan the crowd, looking for a way out. "And now, if you'll excuse me…"
"What about these photos then?" She motions to her phone and shoves it in my face. "Are you saying these are mere fabrications as well, Mr. Korolev?"
I can’t fucking believe she’s doing this. I seriously want to kill her in the most gruesome way possible. Her phone displays the damning naked photos she took of Mindy and me, when she walked in on us in the dressing room of New York High. I asked Pavel to take care of those photos and he did. I was under the impression that my IT team had eradicated them entirely.
Blyad!
What a colossal fuckup!
The bitch is smart, I’ll give her that. She probably backed up the images before Pavel had the IT guys remotely delete them from her device. That’s the only reasonable explanation. Maybe I should have had Pavel eradicate the woman as well, not just the photos.
My mind races as the gravity of my situation sinks in. Alexis stands in front of me with her microphone in my face, eagerly waiting for an answer. Her cameraman stands behind her, filming every fucking moment of this conversation. A cold fury seeps into my bones. How could I have been so fucking careless?
But I know the answer already. I couldn't bear to hurt Mindy. If it wasn’t for her, I would have gotten rid of Alexis and the threat she poses. Except I fucking didn’t. And now she’s here, doing her best to destroy me and everything I worked for.
My heart pounds in my chest as my mind frantically scrambles for the right answer. But it's already too late. The damage has already been done and there is no way back. We’re live on TV and viewers are going to talk about this. The press is going to talk about this. My name is going to be in the headlines tomorrow. It’s very likely that she just fucked up this entire event.
"I will not entertain questions about some manipulated photos, miss," I state firmly, my eyes narrowing as I stare at her with a look that is designed to freeze blood.
"But Mr. Korolev-" she wants to continue, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture. My fists clench at my sides and my heart is hammering in my chest as I search for one of my security guys. When I spot a burly thug nearby, I wave at him. "Get this bitch outta’ here," I growl in his ear, making sure the reporters can’t hear me.
The moment I finally manage to fight my way through the crowd of journalists, my rage explodes like a bomb. The blood is boiling in my veins, pulsing with a fucking vengeance. There are shocked and disgruntled gazes following me, but I don’t care anymore. All that matters is escaping this suffocating mob and getting through the evening without another royal fuckup.
My entire body is itching to confront Mindy with a barrage of questions. I just fucking hope she has a valid explanation for all of this, but I doubt she does. How else would her fucking sister know about our contract? Or about Tramoxine? I certainly haven’t told anyone, especially not that junkie bitch.
Whatever the case, I must get to the bottom of this shitshow.
And I can’t let my stupid emotions get in the way of that.