Chapter 99: The Long Game

The fever had left me weak, but my mind was sharper than it had been in weeks. I was sitting out on the balcony attached to my room, wrapped in a thick cardigan despite the afternoon heat. I just needed to feel the fresh air. I was tired of the smell of medicine and the sterile scent of the vents.

The sliding glass door creaked open. I didn't turn around. I knew it was Ivan by the weight of his footsteps. He didn't say anything at first. He just walked to the railing and stood there, looking out over the manicured gardens of the estate.

"You should be resting," he said eventually. His voice wasn't demanding, just quiet.

"I am resting," I replied. "I'm sitting down. I’m breathing. That counts."

Ivan leaned his elbows on the railing. He looked tired. He had traded his usual suit jacket for a dark sweater, and his hair wasn't perfectly styled for once. He looked more human like this, which made what I was about to ask feel even more dangerous.

"Ivan," I said, looking at his profile. "How did you actually find me?"

He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. "We told you, Leo. That night at the club. It was a chance encounter that turned into something more."

"I don't believe in chances anymore," I said. "Not with you and Dmitri. Everything you do is calculated. Every person who enters this house is vetted. Every car that follows me is scheduled. You don't just 'stumble' into a brother you didn't know you had."

Ivan was silent for a long time. The only sound was the distant hum of a lawnmower somewhere at the edge of the property. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, stared at it, and then put it back without taking one.

"You’re getting too smart for your own good," he said. He turned to face me, leaning his back against the railing. "Or maybe we’re just getting worse at hiding it."

"So tell me," I pressed. "No more stories about fate. Just the truth."

Ivan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We knew about you three years ago, Leo."

The air felt like it had been sucked out of my lungs. I gripped the arms of my chair. "Three years? You let me live in that tiny apartment, working two jobs, barely making rent... and you knew?"

"We had to be sure," Ivan said. His voice was steady, almost cold in its logic. "After our father died, things were chaotic. The company was under attack from every side. We had enemies we didn't even know the names of yet. Bringing a long-lost Volkov into the light back then would have been a death sentence for you."

"So you watched me?" I asked. The thought made my skin crawl. "For three years, you were watching me live my life?"

"Not personally. Not at first," Ivan explained. "We had a team. We knew where you went to school. We knew who you were dating. We knew when you were late on your power bill. Dmitri wanted to bring you home right away, but I told him no. I told him we had to wait until the house was clean."

"That night at the club," I whispered, the realization hitting me. "That wasn't an accident."

Ivan shook his head. "No. We knew you’d be there. We knew which friend you were with. We even knew what you were wearing. We orchestrated the meeting so it would feel natural. We wanted you to like us before you knew who we were. We thought it would make the transition easier if there was a... connection first."

"A connection based on a lie," I said. I felt a surge of anger, but it was dampened by a strange sense of relief. At least the mystery was gone. "The one-night stand, the 'accidental' discovery of the DNA results... all of it was a script?"

"The DNA wasn't a script. That was the legal proof we needed to finalize the trust," Ivan said. "But the way you found it... yes. We placed it where we knew you’d look. We wanted you to feel like you were the one discovering the truth. People handle things better when they think they’re in control."

"I’ve never been in control," I said, my voice rising. "Since the second I met you, I’ve been a piece on a board. Does Dmitri know you’re telling me this?"

"Dmitri is in the study," Ivan said. "He’ll know soon enough. He’s the one who wanted to keep the secret forever. He thinks the truth makes us look like monsters. But I’m tired of the lying, Leo. It’s exhausting to watch every word I say to my own brother."

"Why tell me now?" I asked. "Why today?"

Ivan stepped closer to my chair and knelt down so we were at eye level. It was a rare gesture of humility from him. "Because you were dying of a fever two nights ago, and the only thing you were worried about was whether we were angry with you. It made me feel sick. You shouldn't have to apologize for existing. If you’re going to hate us, I want you to hate us for the right reasons. Not because you think you’re a burden."

I looked into his eyes. There was no mockery there. No hidden agenda. Just a tired man who had spent too much time playing god.

"I don't hate you," I said, and it was the truth. That was the most confusing part. "I’m just... I’m overwhelmed. You took three years of my life away from me. You let me struggle when you could have helped."

"If we helped, people would have noticed," Ivan countered. "A mysterious benefactor paying a student's bills? It leaves a trail. We couldn't risk someone else finding you before we were ready to protect you."

"Protect me or own me?" I asked.

Ivan didn't flinch at the word. "In our world, those two things are the same. You’re a Volkov. You’re a target. If you aren't under our roof, you’re in a grave. I chose the roof."

He stood up and brushed off his trousers. "I’ll let you process this. Dmitri will probably be furious with me, but I don't care. You deserved to know that we didn't just find you. We chose you."

"Did you ever think about just letting me be?" I asked as he reached the door. "Letting me stay Leo, the guy from the apartment, and never telling me about the Volkov name?"

Ivan paused with his hand on the frame. He didn't turn around. "Every day," he admitted. "But we’re selfish, Leo. We were alone in this house for a long time. We wanted our brother back. And as I told you before... we always get what we want."

The door closed behind him with a soft click. I sat there on the balcony, the sun sinking lower in the sky. The gardens looked different now. The trees weren't just decorations; they were the boundaries of a cage that had been built for me years before I ever stepped foot inside it.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. I thought about the three years I had spent thinking I was alone in the world, not knowing that two men were reading reports about my life every single night. It was a horrifying thought, yet beneath the horror, there was a small, traitorous part of me that felt wanted.

They had spent years planning for me. They had cleared their lives just to make room for me. It was a sick, twisted kind of love, but in this house, it was the only kind of love that existed.

I heard footsteps in the hall—Dmitri, likely coming to see if Ivan had truly done it. I didn't get up. I just watched the shadows stretch across the floor, wondering what else they were h

iding in the corners of this house.