40

A few days earlier. Office of Oleg Yartsev

Engrossed in several folders of papers about upcoming deals, Oleg Yartsev didn’t immediately notice someone knocking at the door and entering.

"Nikolai?" the office owner was surprised, leaning back in his chair. "What brings you here? And without warning, too."

"I decided to come by personally and bring the contract for signing," Koshev walked suspiciously pleased through the office and sat in the chair opposite Yartsev. He had a folder in his hands and handed it to his interlocutor.

"I don’t remember us preparing any joint contracts," Oleg looked mockingly at the man. "Cooperation with your company has become painfully unprofitable, so I can’t promise anything. You know that our business is business, nothing personal," said Yartsev Sr., opening the documents and beginning to study them.

"And we were close once… Especially with Varvara," Nikolai touched a sore spot, and Yartsev glared furiously at his former friend.

"Don’t you dare mention her. If you had kept your dick in your pants, she would have stayed with you. You blew your chance successfully more than thirty years ago, which I don’t regret at all," the man recalled the past. Their friendship had long-standing scores, and the reason for their quarrel was as old as time – a beloved woman. "Your contract makes no sense to me. Are you really in your right mind, offering me terms that aren’t just unequal but leave me in an extremely disadvantageous position? Tell me, what do you want?"

"To talk about your grandchildren," Koshev smiled and stated.

"I don’t have grandchildren," Yartsev spat angrily, his gaze heavy.

"Seems you don’t know your sons very well," Nikolai smiled nastily and handed over a photo of two one-year-old boys. "Don’t they look familiar?"

"And why should I believe this?" taking the photo and noticing the obvious resemblance of the children, the man still doubted.

"They’re practically copies of your sons. Those eyes, the hair, and those little birthmarks above the eyebrows—just like your twins," Nikolai mused with satisfaction and took out some small packet. "I know you won’t believe it, so I’ve brought biomaterial. Borrowed a few hairs from the boys while their mommy was distracted. You don’t have to rush—run any tests you want. And while you’re considering whether my contract makes sense, your relatives will stay as my guests."

"Why are you doing this?!" Yartsev boiled over. Family was a very painful and serious topic for him. For his own family, this business mastodon would tear the world apart—and Nikolai knew it perfectly well.

"Because I can," Koshev lifted his head arrogantly. "And besides, my business isn’t doing its best right now. I need to launch a new product line, and you know yourself how expensive that is—extra funds wouldn’t hurt. And don’t forget, I can make it so you won’t find them for a long time. I can offer the girl money and send her with the kids into absolute nowhere, where no one will ever find them. The girl is good, but naive to the point of absurdity—she doesn’t even know whose heirs she gave birth to. How fortunate that I ran into her," Koshev laughed, and Yartsev ground his teeth.

"I’ll smear you across the wall!" Oleg threatened.

"Then you’ll never see your grandchildren," Nikolai shrugged calmly. "Listen, I’m not your enemy. The terms I’m offering in exchange for information about your newly minted relatives aren’t that outrageous—they’re quite fair. I get an opportunity to boost my business, and you get your heirs and their mommy on a silver platter."

"I need to think and run the test," Oleg growled, glaring darkly at his former friend, though he already knew perfectly well what he would do.