On anyone who could help me.
Sergei’s gaze steadies on me again.
“But I cannot stay hidden forever,” he says quietly.
A beat.
“That is why I came.”
The room goes still.
I feel Timofey shift slightly behind me. Not moving closer. Not retreating. Just…present.
Watching. Calculating.
Sergei’s voice lowers.
“I came to speak to Valeria Petrova.”
Not the wife.
Not the Rusnak.
Me.
My name lands heavier than it should.
Like it’s being pulled out of a past I’ve been trying not to look at too directly.
Sergei opens his leather briefcase.
He pulls out a thick stack of documents and places them carefully on the table between us.
Paper on wood.
Simple.
But somehow it feels like an explosion waiting to happen.
“These are the records,” he says. “Financial documents. Legal certifications. Ownership registries tied to the Petrov empire.”
I stare at them.
Not touching them yet.
Not breathing too deeply.
He continues, voice steady.
“These are the official proofs of your claim to your father’s assets,” he adds. “And his leadership structure. Fydor, your father, entrusted them to me.”
My throat tightens.
“This is why Anton has been hunting me mercilessly. If he gets his hands on these,” Sergei says, “he won’t just be able to hunt you.”
His eyes harden slightly.
“He’ll attempt to rewrite everything.”
