My mind whirls. It’s too much at once.
"I own this house," Konstantin continues, stepping closer, not giving me a chance to make sense of any of it. He invades my personal space, forcing me to tilt my head back to look him in the eye. "I own the chair you sat on. I own the ships in the harbor. I own the air in your lungs."
"Get out," I hiss. "I don't care what this paper says. This is my family's home. My mother built this place."
"Your mother?" Konstantin's eyes narrow. The temperature in the room goes cold. "Your mother built nothing."
His words are laced with venom.
He gestures around the grand hall. "This marble? The fleet? It was all bought with blood, Helena. Your father paid for this luxury with lives. He built his throne on a graveyard."
I blink, confused. Then, anger, hot and defensive, surges through me.
"Liar!" I shout, stepping toward him. "You're a liar! My father is many things. He's a drunk. A gambler. A coward. But he’s nota murderer! Don't you dare come into my house and rewrite our history to justify stealing it!"
Konstantin tilts his head, studying me like a specimen. "You defend him? Even now?"
"I defend the truth," I snap. I turn to my father. "Dad, tell him! Tell him he's lying!"
Arthur lifts his head. His eyes are red, filled with misery. He looks at Konstantin, then at me. His mouth opens, his jaw trembling.
"Tell him!" I scream.
Arthur looks down at the rug.
He says nothing.
The silence hits harder than a fist.
My knees go weak. I stumble back, gripping the banister for support.
He isn’t denying it. Why isn't he denying it?
"See?" Konstantin says. "He knows what he bought. He knows the price."
"I don't believe you," I whisper, though my voice lacks conviction now. "I don't believe you."
“Enough.”
The word cracks like a whip.
He turns to me and checks his watch.
"We are wasting time," he snaps. "I have a mission to accomplish"
He points to the deed on the floor.
He walks over to me, stopping inches away. "Your father bet the company, but there is a problem, Helena. The company is worthless."
He steps closer.
"Between the debt and the port fees... the deed is underwater. Ten million dollars in the negative." He leans in, his voicedropping to a whisper. "I don't want a bankrupt company. I want value. And since Arthur cannot pay the difference..."
"We have no money," I say, fighting back tears. "Take the cars. Take the jewelry. Strip the copper from the walls."
"Not enough," he says. "But there’s a way to balance the books."
My heart sinks.
