24

One day, my father’s assistant called me and said things were really bad. He was getting dead drunk every single day and had completely abandoned his company. It was good that everything had been set up so steadily and worked like clockwork, but a firm needs a leader — and the first problems had already begun to appear because there was no one in charge. So we headed to Kyiv to see our father.

What we saw shocked us. Oleg Alekseevich Yartsev — once an influential, proud, authoritative man — was clearly not himself. Sunken shoulders, a dull gaze, and complete neglect of personal hygiene struck us immediately. He reeked of alcohol, and the emptiness in his eyes was downright frightening.

We sobered him up and dragged him out of that state for quite a long time. He yelled at us, snapped, disowned us with words, and was rude.

I knew it was grief talking through him, and that deep down he didn’t mean it. But his words got to Nazar badly, and my brother was furious — though he still stayed by his side.

Something had to be done with the company, so I went there. What helped enormously was the fact that our parents had taken care of our education and practically forced us to graduate from a prestigious university.

Actually, that’s why we lived such a free life afterward. Before our studies, Father set a condition: if we graduated and finished with honors, he wouldn’t pressure us and would wait until we matured on our own and were ready to take over the business.

It was strong motivation — and it turned out we were quite capable guys who, even studying with top grades, still managed to party plenty and secretly participate in races.

It took several days just to get at least a small understanding of what was going on in Father’s company. It was difficult, because at the same time we also had to drag our parent out of his depression.

However, on one of his sober days, Father saw me in his office while I was trying to sort through his papers, and he came up to me. For the first time in a long while, I saw genuine interest in his eyes — interest in anything at all.

Grabbing onto that thread of awareness and curiosity in him, I asked him about the company and the documents — of which there was already a whole pile. Father gladly answered me and enthusiastically began explaining different nuances of our firm. He was overjoyed by the fact that at least one son had started to delve into the work of his life, and the man began sharing all the information and knowledge he had with pride — and practically with a kind of fierce eagerness.

I saw that he needed me, and I myself slowly began to warm up to everything Father was telling me. After a few days, the two of us showed up at the company together, and I started helping him with his work. It was truly hard for Father, because during his absence an enormous amount of tasks had piled up, and he simply couldn’t handle them all on his own, even if he wanted to.

Nazar was downright infuriated by how things were going. He didn’t want to stay near Father for long and didn’t understand my intentions at all. And when I said I wanted to stay and finally take over Father’s company so that he and I together could become the heads of the board, Nazar practically lost it. We had a huge fight. My brother refused to stay and didn’t want me to stay either. He yelled that this way they were tightening nooses around our necks, and at this rate they’d soon marry us off for the sake of the business to who knows whom.

Probably for the first time in my life, I saw my brother as nothing more than a small, spoiled, capricious child whose plans weren’t going his way. And all this while he’s actually eight minutes older than me!

Slamming the door loudly and not even saying goodbye, Nazar drove back to our Kremenchuk, while I stayed with Father. Of course, he wanted both of his sons to stay, but he was incredibly happy even with just me.

We took over the company, and in seven years we achieved great results in business. Profits grew, there were many new projects, investors, developments, and contracts.

After some time, I more or less made up with Nazar. We even helped each other out occasionally, but that unconditional closeness we used to have was gone. Maybe that’s for the best, since we’re two grown men now, each with our own life—though still very closely connected.

“What girl? … aaah,” I see the sly, satisfied smirk when the little bastard finally realizes why I’m ready to smash his face in. “So you actually fucked her? And she seemed so hopeless to me already.”

My fist met my brother’s pretty-boy face unexpectedly. I was furious. My pride and male ego had been outrageously wounded, and I needed someone to take my anger out on. And it’s hard to find a better candidate than Nazar.