Chapter Fifty-Six
Maron
As I leave the crowd behind and step out of the Silver Room, I almost crash into Pavel. The face of my second-in-command is twisted into a scowl as he approaches me.
"Boss," he says, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. "I was coming to see you. You're not going to like this."
On the screen of Pavel’s phone, a red banner blares 'brEAKING NEWS.' I lean in, and my goddamn heart almost stops beating in my chest as I read the headline that follows.
"brEAKING NEWS: Jennifer Shirkova, Daughter of Business Mogul Leonid Shirkov, Found Dead at 24."
Chert Voz’mi!
This is bad.
Very fucking bad.
Sweat beads on my forehead, and a cold shiver runs down my spine at the brutal impact of this.
How?
How the fuck?
We delivered the kidney and the transplant was successful.
Was it not?
I skim through the article and I feel the blood boil in my veins for the second time this evening. I can’t fucking believe that I’m reading this. Words like "waiting for kidney transplant" and "tragic loss" jump out like daggers piercing through my gut.
Cold beads of sweat break out on my temples as the implications crash over me. I’m the only person in the entire world who understands what this truly means.
It means that my fucking loser half-brother, Maurice, stabbed me in the back once again.
He was supposed to set up the kidney deal with Shirkov and he failed. He fucking failed! And not only that, but he lied to me. He told me that the transplant had been completed. He told me that the whole deal was a success and I fucking believed him.
And through it all, he kept a straight fucking face.
Maurice. He couldn’t even get this right. Maybe he didn’t even give a shit about getting it right. He just wanted his thirty percent so he could spend it on booze and stuff it into a slot machine at Marble Monkey. He kept feeding me bullshit every time I asked for an update, the slimy fucker. He even spun a tall tale about being at the hospital, overseeing the transplant.
Ublyudok!
I should have known better. Maybe I’m the one responsible for all of this. But I’m definitely the one who has to face the consequences. Shirkov lost his daughter and that’s on me. He’s going to start a fucking war against me and my family and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. All I can do is try to protect those close to me and fight back.
"What do you want to do, boss?" Pavel's voice is laced with worry. Besides me, he’s probably the only one who understands what this means.
"I need to go find that motherfucker Maurice,” I growl, barely containing my fury. “He hasn't picked up his phone since morning."
"Want me to come with you?"
"I need time to think," I say firmly. "Stay with Igor and keep an eye on the crowd. I'll let you know when I need you."
As Pavel leaves, I call Maurice for the tenth fucking time today, but just like before, it goes to voicemail. Of course, it fucking does. Jesus Christ, how is it that the most important day of my life is turning into this fucking nightmare? First, Mindy betrays me by sharing my most confidential secrets with her sister and now Maurice stabs me in the back?
Jesus, what I would do for a fucking drink right now. My throat burns with thirst as I think about it. But I can’t lose my shit. I have to keep it together and salvage what’s left of this goddamn shitshow. The Tramoxine demonstration in the Silver Room is still going well. That’s what matters most. Even though my fucking heart is breaking to pieces, especially by Mindy’s betrayal. As for Maurice, I’m going to start by kicking his hobo ass and cut ties with him for good. This was the last fucking time he pulled a stunt like this.
Jennifer Shirkova is dead.
Her father is probably raging.
He lost his only daughter and he’s got no one else to lose.
There is nothing more dangerous than a powerful man who has nothing to lose. First things first, I must secure protection for the people close to me. Even Mindy and Maurice, no matter their betrayal. As soon as fucking possible, that is. I also need to arrange protection for my mansion. My mother and my brother, Timofey, live there. Because there is no doubt in my mind that Shirkov will unleash hell upon me. I’m the one he’s going to blame for his daughter's death. And the worst fucking thing about it all is that he’s right. He’s going to start his revenge plan by taking out the people closest to me. I cannot let that happen.
Fuck!
This is exactly why you can’t lose your shit, mudak!
Mindy may have betrayed me, but I’ll deal with that myself. I’m not going to let Shirkov kill her. The thought alone makes me want to fucking murder someone. Nobody touches my woman but me.
First things first, I need to call for reinforcements. The event is already heavily guarded, but Shirkov has a goddamn army under his control. I can’t afford to leave anything to chance. I must also increase security back at the mansion as well.
I quickly tap my phone screen and send the emergency instructions to Pavel.
“Pavel, call for backup immediately. We need more men stationed at every entry point to the hotel. We also need more men back at the mansion. Shirkov is coming for us.”
When I finish my message to Pavel, I try calling Maurice again. I’m not even surprised when it goes to voicemail. That fucking idiot. He has no idea of the danger he’s in. I just hope he’s in the building somewhere and not out on the streets waiting for Shirkov to hunt him down.
But it looks like I’ll have to deal with Maurice later. I must go find Mindy and fast. I sprint down the corridor, urgently checking every room and corner I come across. The sense of impending danger grips me tightly, making every missed moment feel like a potentially catastrophic delay. I can't afford to waste any more time.
Each room I barge into reveals startled hotel staff and housekeepers, their wide eyes reflecting their surprise as I barrel past them. My breath comes in ragged bursts, each footfall echoing my growing desperation. I run with relentless urgency until, at the end of a narrow hallway right beside the Silver Room, I come across a closed door. With steely determination, I make my way toward it, pushing it open so forcefully that it almost breaks in the process.
The sight that greets me shakes me to my fucking core, threatening to shatter every fragile illusion I'd clung to until now.
There are two people in the room. Mindy and Maurice.
Maurice lies sprawled across Mindy's lap, completely passed out, his body limp like a discarded rag doll. His face is as pale as a ghost, drained of color, with dark circles under his eyes making his hollow expression even more unsettling. It’s obvious that he drank himself numb again and passed out. Just like he always does. Mindy desperately holds onto him, her arms trembling as she tries to cradle his limp form. Tears stream down her face, leaving red tracks in their wake.
"Oh my God, Maron," she begs, her voice breaking with each word. "Please get help! Maurice needs help!"
My eyes dart frantically between the two as my mind struggles to comprehend the scene before me. Why is Maurice on Mindy’s lap? And what the fuck were they doing in this room alone, away from the event? Were they drinking together and hooking up behind my back?
I don’t fucking know what to make of this all of a sudden, even though the proof is glaringly obvious before me: Maurice and Mindy were in a secret relationship right under my nose.
You should have known, dickhead!
She lied to you all this time!
She spilled your secrets to her sister and fucked your idiotic half-brother.
All behind your back!
I can’t believe the fool I was. I trusted her all along despite all the subtle clues screaming at me. I chose to ignore them because I was too fucking obsessed with her. But no more. I don’t fucking care anymore. This is the last time I let anyone close to me.
Ignoring Mindy and her pathetic plea for help, I step closer and shake Maurice violently. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dickhead? I fucking told you not to drink tonight!" I roar, no longer containing my rage. "Shirkov’s daughter is dead because of you!"
I turn to face Mindy, who is clearly frozen by the sight of my unrestrained fury. I realize she’s never seen me like this before, but I’m beyond caring. I feel nothing but a chilling, unbridled rage that consumes me completely.
"And you? You’re a liar and a traitor." I say to her coldly, "I always knew you were fucking Maurice behind my back. But I chose to ignore it because…"
Because I love you .
I’m unable to finish my own sentence. My jaw clenches at the mere ridiculousness of the thought. I made a complete fool of myself. I can’t believe how easily she screwed me over. Maybe this was her plan from the very beginning. To find out about my deepest darkest secrets and sell them to her journalist sister so that they could both make a shitton of money by exposing me. And in the meantime, she never stopped fucking Maurice. Maybe they never even broke up.
Of course, Korolev.
You’re a rich fucker and she sniffed out an opportunity to make money.
What the fuck did you expect?
That she’ll be the love of your life?
You pathetic son of a bitch.
Mindy winces at my words as tears roll down her cheeks. "It's not what you think, Maron," she whispers through sobs. "Maurice needs help! He’s-"
Maurice stirs, his voice slurred and weak. "Mindy," he mumbles, "I love you."
I stare at Mindy. Her face is buried into her hands as she leans forward with Maurice’s drunk form spread on her lap. Something inside me snaps, the betrayal cutting deeper than any knife. With disgust on my face, I pull my phone out of my pocket. "Pavel, " I say, "get your ass over here, right now."
Mindy's lips part in a plea. "Maron, you don’t get it, he’s not drunk! He took Tra-" she begins, but I cut her off.
"Shut up! Your pathetic excuses mean nothing to me." The venom in my tone is palpable as I turn away, unable to even look at her.
"Emergency backup is on its way, boss." Pavel emerges from nothing in an instant. "If Shirkov thinks he can get through this, he’s got another thing-," he stops in his tracks and his eyes widen as he takes in the scene."Shit," he blurts, not even finishing his previous sentence.
I keep my composure, despite the rage boiling inside me. My eyes never leave Mindy's as I say, "Pavel." My voice is cold as ice. "Get these two pieces of shit out of here. Put Maurice in a room to sober up. As for the woman, kick her out of the hotel and make sure she never crosses my path again. From today onward, she’s on her own."
"Got it, boss," Pavel says quietly. "Leave it to me."
Mindy's cries turn into desperate shrieks, her voice cracking with fear and desperation. "Maron, no! You’re wrong about this!" But my mind is already made up.
I no longer want to listen to her pathetic plea. I leave the room, my eyes fixed on Pavel as he speaks into the phone, making arrangements. My mind has detached from my body and I observe the world through a hazy filter. I feel disconnected from reality like an outsider peering in at the events going on around him.
I wait in the corridor and watch as Maurice is dragged into a room where he can sleep off his alcohol-induced coma. Then, I watch Mindy from a distance as she gets forcefully escorted from the room by my men. Her gaze meets mine and she’s yelling something at me, but I don’t hear it. She’s probably begging for my mercy and forgiveness, but there is none to be found in my stone-cold heart. She looks back one last time before they take her downstairs and kick her out of the hotel. "Maron," she cries, her voice breaking, "you’re making a mistake!"
Yeah right. I made mistake after mistake all this time, but no more. I feel nothing. My mind still feels detached from my body, numbed by the depth of their betrayal. The pain is too great, the hurt is too raw. I'm numb inside like I should be. It's better this way. Feelings are fucking exhausting. This bullshit called love only left me broken and vulnerable. But I’m done with that for good.
Everything that could go wrong tonight went wrong. The only thing that didn’t is the Tramoxine launch. The guests in the Silver Room are still undergoing treatment. Except the whole world outside knows about the drug, thanks to Mindy Williams’ treachery.
As for me, I'm fucking through with everything and everyone. The thought of disappearing to some deserted island feels more tempting than ever. Anything is better than this suffocating madness. The first thing I’m going to do tonight after I get home is drink myself numb, just like Maurice did. Yeah, that sounds like the best fucking idea right now.
But unfortunately, the danger is not over. Shirkov is coming. There are people I need to protect. My mother. Timofey. Even that fucking Maurice. Yes, he’s a traitor, but I can’t let Shirkov kill my half-brother in cold blood. As for Mindy, she’s no longer my family. She’s on her own. What happens with her is no longer within my control.
Driven by a sudden through, I turn to find Pavel. The backup he called in should be here by now and I must check if the security measures I asked for have been put in place. We can’t handle this Shirkov threat half-assed. But before I could head down the corridor and find my second in command, I feel a cold object being pressed against my back.
Shit.
I know immediately that this means trouble. I spent my life in the Bratva and it’s not the first time I’m being held at gunpoint. And that is exactly is what is happening here. I knew it the moment I felt the cool touch of metal through my shirt.
"Korolev," a familiar voice behind me sneers with venom.
Double shit.
I know that voice. It’s the voice of Leonid Shirkov.
"Shirkov." I croak out. This is bad. If he’s in the building, it means that my security has failed. Spectacularly.
"My daughter died last night," he growls with malice, increasing the pressure of the gun against my skin. "And guess who’s responsible for that?"
Blyad.
The weight of his words crushes me as I realize the grimness of my situation. He’s going to shoot me point blank and there’s fuck all I can do to stop it. What a way to end this day. After a streak of colossal fuckups, being betrayed by my half-brother and the woman I loved, I get killed by my worst enemy. And Maurice, the one who’s really responsible for this, gets to sleep off his hangover and move on with his pathetic life, probably continuing to fuck the woman who screwed me over.
"Leonid, listen-" I start to say in an attempt to reason with Shirkov, but I don’t get to finish my sentence. A deafening boom shatters the air, and white-hot pain sears through my torso. The world explodes into a blinding flash, then fades to pitch black in an instant.
So much for your legacy, Korolev.
You’ll die like a dog in the street.
I'm falling, or maybe floating - I can't tell which. My body suddenly feels weightless, disconnected. So, this is what it feels like to die. It’s nowhere near as bad as I thought.
Fragments of thoughts race through my mind at lightning speed. Mindy's face. Maurice's betrayal. The empire I've built. Will it all crumble now? It doesn’t matter anymore. All these things seem insignificant now. They are but the subtle pieces of this physical reality I’m leaving behind.
I try to move or say something but my body won't respond. The darkness is absolute, suffocating. I strain to hear something, anything - sirens, voices, even my own heartbeat - but there's nothing except for a high-pitched ringing in my ears.
As my consciousness slips away, my world fractures like shattered glass. Each shard reflects a piece of my life - Cordelia, her mother, my mother, Timofey, and Maurice’s lies. The fragments spin faster now, blurring into a kaleidoscope of regrets and missed chances.
Then, one by one, they wink out of existence, leaving me adrift in a sea of disappearing memories. As the void of nothingness swallows me, the last thing my fading senses can comprehend is a gentle female voice coming from the deep, dark bottom of the abyss I’m falling into. It’s Mindy’s voice.
"I love you, Maron," she says.
It is the last thing I hear before I disappear into the darkness.
End of Part 1.