“She’s taking it better than expected,” Pavel says quietly.
“She’s angry. She’ll stay angry for a while.”
“And the children?”
“They move in tomorrow. I’ve already arranged their rooms. Security will be doubled around the estate.”
Pavel nods. “Maxim asked if this changes the succession plan.”
“It doesn’t. He’s still my heir. The girl’s children don’t threaten that.”
“You’re sure?”
I glance at him. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“No. Just making sure there are no surprises later.”
There won’t be. I’ve planned every detail of this acquisition down to the smallest variable. Anna’s children are part of the package, collateral that kept Viktor from refusing outright. Four-year-old twins. A boy and a girl with no father listed on their birth certificates. Viktor was vague about the details; he said Anna refused to name the father. Doesn’t matter. The children will be provided for because that was the agreement, but they’re not my concern beyond that.
Anna is my concern. She’s the key to Kestrel Maritime’s legal transfer. Once we’re married and the consolidation is complete, I’ll have control over one of the largest shipping networks in the region. The legitimate business that can absorb and clean money from less legitimate operations.
It took three years to engineer this. Three years of buying debt, applying pressure, eliminating other options. Viktor Kestrel thought he was negotiating. He wasn’t. He was drowning, and I was the only one offering a lifeline with conditions attached.
And now it’s done.
I follow Anna into the reception hall. She’s already at a table with her parents, posture rigid, hands folded in her lap. Svetlana is talking to her in a low voice. Viktor drinks whiskey like it’s water.
The room is small, with two dozen guests at most. Business associates who needed to witness this union. A few of Viktor’s remaining contacts. No one Anna would call a friend.
I take my seat at the head table beside her. She doesn’t acknowledge me.
Dinner is served. Roasted duck, glazed vegetables. Anna picks at her food. Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t speak unless someone addresses her directly.
Svetlana tries to make conversation. Something about the flowers, how beautiful everything looks. Anna responds with one-word answers that kill the exchange before it can go anywhere. Viktor doesn’t even try. He stares at his plate like he’s cataloging every mistake that led him here.
I eat in silence. This isn’t a celebration. It’s a formality. A public acknowledgment that the Kestrel family is now bound to mine, that their assets are protected under my name, and that any enemies they had are now my problem.
And I have no shortage of enemies.
Halfway through the meal, Maxim approaches the table. He leans down, speaks quietly near my ear. “Dmitri sent a message. He wants to meet next week about the shipment routes.”
“Tell him Tuesday. Not before.”
“He’s pushing for sooner.”
“Then he can wait.” I don’t look up from my plate. “Anything else?”
“Just checking if you need me to stay for the rest of this.”
“No. You’re free to go.”
Maxim nods and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone else. He’s good at reading situations, knows when his presence is required and when it’s just ceremonial.
Anna watches him leave, then turns to me. “That’s your son.”
“Yes.”
“How old is he?”
