Page 36 of Revenge

Viktor

“The numbers look good, but you should sell House of Beauty. There’s no point in keeping it.” John tells me as he goes through my portfolio.

“I already told you I’m not selling, so stop asking. In fact, I want to sign the company over to Ava O’Brien. Make the arrangement.”

“Are you sure? It’s worth a lot of money, Mr. Manarch.”

“Your job is to do what I order. Stop asking the same question,” I say between clenched teeth. I take a deep breath to calm my anger. “How are you doing with the other matter?”

“Your wife won’t get a penny from anything earnt prior to the marriage. The prenup is ironclad. She won’t have access to any of your businesses.”

“Good. That will be all.” I dismiss him, not wanting to encourage any more questions. I hate being questioned.

“You need to stop taking your frustration out on people. Everyone is walking on eggshells,” Oliver says as John leaves. I had forgotten he was here.

“You aren’t,” I growl. Lately, Oliver has been lecturing, and it’s annoying the shit out of me.

“Because I’m not afraid of you. I can still kick your ass,” he says, trying to lessen the tension.

“Like you ever did.” The thought makes me chuckle. I know he’s trying to keep me grounded.

“But I can connect a few punches before going down.”

“When we were kids, maybe. That was a lifetime ago.”

“Seriously, Viktor, the men are on edge. You haven’t been around, and when you are, they steer clear, afraid to anger you.”

I expect my men not to cross me. I’m their boss, not their friend. But I’m not my father, and I won’t rule my clan with fear.

“You’re right. Close Eros for a private party. Let the men blow off steam. Put on an open bar and get women of all shades and walks of life.”

“They’ll appreciate that—” He’s interrupted mid-sentence by the ring of his cell. He looks at the screen, and I see a trace of panic on his face. “I have to take this,” he says, standing and leaving the office.

It isn’t like him not to take a call in my presence. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want me to know. Could it be Ava? From the door, he’s pacing and barking at whoever is on the other end. He ends the call and tries to compose himself before reentering my office, but it’s clear something isn’t right.

“Everything ok?”

“I’ll make the calls and let you know the details for the party. Call me if you need anything.” He turns to leave.

“What the fuck was that call about?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“Oliver—”

“It’s not Manarch related. I have to take care of something.” He leaves, not letting me add anything else.

“What are you up to, Oliver?” I yell after him.

He doesn’t reply.

Oliver hasn’t contacted me for hours. Normally I would see it as a good sign. It means everything is running smoothly. But there was something on his face earlier that unsettled me. Like he was hiding something from me. We don’t keep secrets. He’s my right hand. My best friend. Shit, my brother. I can’t shake the feeling it isn’t good. It has to be Ava. What else would make him keep something from me? I decide to text him. I need to get to the bottom of this.

Viktor: Everything ready for the party?

He takes a few minutes to answer.

Oliver: Wrapping things up. I’ll give you the details tonight.

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