Page 21 of The Harbinger
Dropping the file on the desk, I sat behind it and rolled my shoulders. Traveling for fifteen hours without a wink of sleep pulled on any man’s resolve, but some things couldn’t wait.
Time was of the essence.
“Show him in.”
I sat back in my chair, my fingers clasped in front of me as Dmitri slid the door open, allowing Petr Petroski to waltz into my office. The door slid closed behind him as he took the chair across from me, putting his briefcase on the ground beside him.
“I’ve heard you’re filing for bankruptcy,” I said, getting straight to the point.
Petr’s eyes grew wide, and his mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish fighting for breath. “How did you hear about this?”
I tapped my fingers together, drawing his attention to them. “You insult me, Petr.”
He shook his head, his chunky jowls vibrating with the motion. “We were just talking it over.”
“Talking about it is one thing.” I stood and placed my palms on the desk, then leaned over. “But when people tell me you’ve filed the paperwork without my knowledge, we have a problem.”
The man’s portly body wavered as he denied the accusation. “I would’ve told you. It was only a discussion with my advocates.”
“We both know that isn’t the case.” I flipped open the yellow folder containing all the evidence I needed, including the petition filed with arbitration, and handed him the papers. “How does a conversation end up on a piece of paper and filed?” I sat and rocked back, placing my fingertips together in a steeple while he looked it over.
“This isn’t my signature.” He tossed the papers back onto my desk.
“You know what I do to liars and those trying to scheme their way out of their debts?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. You know this.” The whites in his eyes grew larger and more pronounced as he denied the evidence presented.
“Arbitration says differently.” I glanced up at Dmitri, who stood at my door with his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m disappointed.”
“I was scared of losing everything. I will ask them to stop the process.” Petr’s expensive Armani suit tailored just for him stretched around his laborious gut as he heaved in oxygen like he’d finished running a race. “I meant no disrespect.”
“You lost the faith, Petr.” I narrowed my gaze and gritted my teeth as he quibbled. “Stop begging. It’s unbecoming.” His cheeks turned a cherry red, highlighting the capillaries around his eyes and nose. “I have sold your debt. You are no longer my concern.”
“S–sold?” He pulled at his tie as he leaned over blindly, grabbing for his briefcase. “To who?” His meaty fingers wrapped around the handle, bringing the case to his chest.
“Ruslan Vladimirovich.”
The pulsing blood flooding his cheeks drained away, leaving his skin a pallor ashen white. His nostrils flared, and beads of sweat broke out across his brow as his gaze darted around the room, looking for the devil himself.
Ruslan was a well-known businessman to the vast population that made up Russia, but to the higher elite, they knew him for other things… more sinister things, and Petr was well aware of the darkness shrouding the Primack name.
“Please, Alexander Ruslanovich, understand.”
“I would’ve been very understanding had you brought this to my attention.” I nodded to Dmitri, who now towered over Petr. “It’s time for you to leave.”
“There must be something we can work out.” Petr stood from the chair using the armrest to heave himself up, and then with a wary eye, he glanced up at Dmitri. “Let’s not end our friendship like this.”
“You mistake me. We were never friends. This was a simple business transaction that has now concluded. I’ve cut my losses.”
I nodded, and Dmitri grabbed Petr by the elbow, ushering him out. I leaned forward, shuffling the papers back into the manila envelope and closed it with the silent wisp, then sent a text.
Me: Make sure Tatiana sends the finished papers over for filing.
Ruslan: She’ll set a meeting.
I stood, smoothing my suit jacket with my palm, and tucked my phone back into my pocket.
I’d spent forty-five minutes wasting my time with his dribbling. That was forty-five minutes I could have been tearing her open with a fine-toothed comb.