Vadim knocked twice on the study door, waiting patiently. He leaned on the door with his head bowed down.
"Come in."
He turned the door knob open and walked inside the room, closing the door behind him. Her seat was empty but there were a lot of papers littered on her desk.
"Mother?" He called out. He walked into the balcony and heaved a sigh of relief as soon as he saw her. Her back was turned to him. He stood behind her as she watched the beautiful sunset.
"How was your trip?" His mother turned to face him. "It was productive." He replied with a small smile. He was anxious to tell her about who he met.
"You seem quite excited." She observed. He looked at the floor and then looked up at her again. "You won't believe who I met today." He finally said.
"Should I be concerned?" She walked out of the balcony and back into her office. He followed her and pulled one of the chairs back and sat down.
"Actually, you should." He paused, gaining her attention.
"And who's this person exactly?" She poured herself a glass of whisky. "Take a guess." He said with a smile. "I don't have time for this. Cut the bullshit!" She snapped.
"During the flight, she was sitting right next to me. I had to check twice to confirm if it was actually her."
"Vadim.."
"It's her. Anika." He cut her off.
"Anika Vertrova?" She asked, still unsure if they were talking about the same person. He nodded. Yelena gasped in disbelief. She leaned forward.
"Are you sure?" She held his hands. "Yes, mother. I found her." He gave her hands a light squeeze.
"But I....I don't understand." She pulled back. "I've had my best men find her and we've not been able to get a lead on her all these years."
"I told you I'll find her. What's important is we have her right where we want her. Here, in Russia." He said.
"What did you do?" She asked, looking at him expectantly. She hoped he didn't let her walk away easily without having her followed.
"I gave her my business card. I'm expecting a call from her." He said as he stood up to pour himself a glass of whiskey.
"How can you be so stupid?!" She slammed her palms on the table. She ran her both her hands down her face. Her breathing became ragged.
"Do you really think she'll call you? You actually think she doesn't know who you are?" She glared at him. The room remained quiet.
"Answer me!!" She yelled at him.
Vadim clenched his jaws, his veins popping out on his forehead. "She didn't recognize me." He said, slowly. "How are you so sure about that?"
"She doesn't even know my name!!" He snapped, dropping the glass. The glass fell to the ground with a shattering sound. Yelena's eyes widened.
"You need to trust me. I have this under control." He ran his hands through his hair, exhaling deeply.
"Did you have her followed?" She rose from her seat. He remained quiet. No answer. How could he possibly tell her that he got carried away and didn't have her followed?
"You didn't right?" She scoffed, disappointed. "I knew you wouldn't. You had the one chance to prove yourself to me and you flopped it."
"Look, she's going to call." He suggested. "And if she doesn't?" She gave him a mocking look.
"You see... This is what happens when you are not prepared." She walked up to him. "You let chances slide and the enemy gets the upper hand."
He bowed his head in shame. He wished she would stop talking. She didn't have to always remind him of his mistakes. But Yelena would never miss a chance to humiliate him.
"Nico is in town."
Vadim looked up alert. "Are you serious?" He asked. "You know too well I don't play around with business. What I need to know is, why the Italian is here.....in Russia?" She stepped back to her table.
She picked up her phone and turned back to him. "I have men around the city. He's definitely not staying for long." Vadim took a moment to pause and register it.
A collaboration was taking place.
"It's definitely not a coincidence that the heir, Anika, chose to return to Russia at the same damn time." She said. "You know how important she is to me. I need you to get her."
Vadim dreaded having this discussion with her. It was always the same thing. The heir and the need for him to claim his position. The thought of it made him sick.
"Aren't you going to say something or you're just going to be as incompetent as your brother?" She asked. He clenched his fists and his jaws tightened.
"Can you stop this madness?!" He slammed his fists on the table. The room was engulfed with total silence and unspoken tension. His chest heaved.
Yelena's cold blue eyes turned darker as she glared at him. She couldn't believe what she just heard. She dropped her phone on the table.
Yelena had never tolerated disrespect. Not from anyone. Her sons were certainly not an exception. She raised them brutally. Every mistake attracted severe punishment.
'Leaders make no mistakes.' Her father would always say. And she stood by that. She built a special room to instill discipline in them. Just like her father did.
She had the cell built when Vadim turned three. One was never too young to be disciplined. If he ever objected to her instructions, he would be sent to the cell.
"What did you just say?" She broke the silence.
He remained silent. His gut twisted with uneasiness. She brushed past him and motioned for the nearby guards.
"Take him to the cell." She ordered.
His heart sank.
He looked up, his eyes a bit watery.
"Mother, please.." He begged.
"Not one word from you." She cut him off.
"You're weak. Just like your brother."
The two heavy-built guards grabbed Vadim's arms and whisked him away from the office. He grunted as they dragged him through the hallway.
He looked back occasionally and watched his mother's disappointed face. She turned back and entered the study, slamming the door shut.
He was roughly pushed into the cell. Before he could turn, the gates were shut. The loud sound echoed throughout the room.
The cell was a place of reflection. He was usually locked up there for a week. Within the week, his mother would have him whipped. Sometimes starved.
If he was stubborn, he would be given iced baths that usually made him sick for a whole month. Vadim hated the cell.
He shuddered. The cell was dark, cold and damp with only one window at the far end of the room. His hands were shaky as he tried to reach the window.
The cell was a tight, constricted room. One could barely make three steps in it. His hands could touch both corners of the wall without any effort.
Vadim was claustrophobic.
When he was younger, he would sit on the floor and begin to count. If he didn't count, he'd recite poems. If it ever became too much, he would lay on the floor and close his eyes tight.
He couldn't sit and his knees could barely keep him on his feet. He leaned forward and rested his head on the damp wall.
He felt his lungs squeeze in his chest. His shaky hands were cold now. He tugged at his hair violently, holding his head between his palms.
He was having a panic attack.
"Please let me out!" He gasped. His cries were to no avail. He fell on his knees and held his head between his palms. He began to count silently like he had always done at times like this.
"Emotions are weakness. They shouldn't be displayed."
He turned to look at door and it felt like he's brother was standing there—watching him. He tried to reach out to him but there was no one there. It was all in his mind.
He took in deep breaths as he thought of a way out of this place.
He knew the answer. His mother has always wanted one thing..... one person— Anika Vertrova.
She was his ticket out of here.
And all he needed was a call from her...