Submitting to the Billionaire(44)

Very quickly serious money starts to pour into my bank accounts. The  first thing I do is arrive one evening, unannounced and with a bottle of  expensive vodka, at Yuri and Natalya's home. The shock on their faces  gives me my first sense of happiness since my brother died. I eat and  drink with the family.

Again, they barely eat, allowing me to have my fill. Imagine their  incredible surprise when I hand them the deeds to a house in a good  neighborhood. I leave their home, smiling. They invite me to come back  and visit them. I smile and nod, but I know I will never see them again.

Marat's operation was already making a lot of money for the family, but  with my hard work, input, attention to detail, an intuitive feel for  anything that's wrong, our earnings multiply. So much so, one day, Marat  tells me his uncle Viktor wants to meet me.

We arrive outside the largest private house in Russia. Surrounded by  high walls and electric gates, and swarming with security guards, you  cannot mistake it for anything but the house of a Pakhan. A large man  frisks me before we are shown into a cavernous library. It smells of new  leather and expensive cologne. There is a large, thick set man with  cold, suspicious eyes, sitting on a chesterfield sofa. He must be in his  late fifties, but his skin is tight and he still has a full head of  hair.

"Uncle Viktor this is Nikolai, Nikolai, my uncle,'' Marat introduces.

"Hello, Mr. Ivankov.''

A slow smile slips into his still face. "Call me Viktor.''

I nod.

‘‘Sit," Viktor invites, pointing to the seat next to him. "We will have a  drink together." He signals with his large hand to one of his staff who  immediately slips out of the room.

"So, Nikolai, Marat tells me about the great things you have achieved for my family."

I shrug. "It is nothing."

His shrewd eyes gleam. "You have certainly impressed my nephew, anyway.''

A bottle of Vodka and three glasses arrive. We drink and talk, and drink  some more. The conversation is general, but Marat suddenly seems  irritated by all the attention I am getting from Viktor. He jumps to his  feet.

"I'm going out for a while,'' he says.

"Take two of my security,'' Viktor says.

"I'll be fine," Marat says sulkily.

"There is a war going on. Do not make it easy for my enemies to kidnap  or assassinate you," Viktor says in a completely different tone.

"Fine," Marat calls as he walks out.

"My nephew's a little headstrong, but he's a good soldier," Viktor says calmly.

We talk for another half-an-hour. Again, nothing of importance.

"Come, let's eat," Viktor says, clapping me on the shoulder.

Though we have just met, and I have no doubt Viktor is a very ruthless  man, I feel a strange bond with him. We eat the excellent food and  afterwards the conversation turns to business.

"Nikolai, I do not want you to work with Marat anymore. You are  undoubtedly strong and fearless, but in our field, men who know how to  use a gun and their fists are many. You are too bright to be doing what  you are doing."

I know a test when I see one. I nod politely. "Thank you, Viktor, but I  owe a great deal to Marat, and do not wish to dishonor him, or our  friendship.''

He smiles slowly, pleased with my answer. "Loyalty is a good thing, but  you need not worry about your friendship with Marat. In the structure of  our organization, everyone works for the boss, and I am the boss of  this family. Marat will be honored that he brought someone of your  ability into the family, and he'll be duly rewarded.''         

     



 

I lift my wine glass to my lips. "What do you have in mind, Viktor?''

"I am a wealthy man with numerous business arrangements across Russia,  but as these businesses grow I am less able to ensure our partners  remain loyal and trustworthy. You will begin by taking responsibility  for all of our clubs and gambling operations. They number over two  hundred, but many are not as profitable as they should be. They need a  fresh set of eyes and a sharp mind to stop the skimming."

"And for my troubles?"

"Ten percent of the profits.''

I twirl the wine glass in my fingers. "Fifteen percent and one favor. The only one I will ever ask of you."

For a long while he doesn't speak and neither do I. Whoever breaks the  silence is the loser. I watch as he lifts his wine glass to his mouth  and takes a sip.

Then he laughs. "If you had accepted ten percent I would have changed my  mind," he says frankly. "Ambition is good, Nikolai. It's what got me  here. I am curious. What is this favor you want to ask of me?''

"My parents died in an accident, but I do not know where they are  buried. I would like to find out where, so I can visit their graves. I'm  sure you have contacts in the Interior ministry who can provide this  information.''

He pauses to think about my request, then he nods. "I will do this thing for you, Nikolai.''

"Thank you, Viktor.''

He smiles. A cold, shark-like smile. "Now we will drink to our arrangement.''



Two days later I get a call from one of Viktor's personnel.

"Hello, Nikolai, the boss wants to see you.''

"Okay. When?''

"Tonight."

"Fine, I'll have my driver take me around later,'' I say.



"Take a seat, Nikolai."

I sit opposite Viktor and watch him drink his vodka slowly.

"What am I doing here, Viktor?" I ask.

"You remember that favor you wanted? Do you still want to know?''

I raise an eyebrow, surprised at his question. ‘‘Of course, it's very important to me.''

"You might not like the answers.''

"It doesn't matter. I still want to know,'' I say with a frown.

"All that you know about your parents, Nikolai, is a lie.''

I freeze. "What do you mean?''

"Your parents were not doctors. They did not die in an accident. They were KGB agents."

"How can that be?"

"Think, Nikolai. The fine house. The frequent trips away. All part of their cover. You were just too young to know different.''

I jump to my feet, my heart pumping hard. "Does that mean they are still alive somewhere?"

He shakes his head. "No. They're dead. They were murdered, but even  their deaths did not satisfy the State. The children had to be punished  for the sins of the parents. That is why you were sent to the  orphanage."

I stare at him. "What sins?"

"The KGB files show that your father and mother had passed intelligence  to the CIA. They were actually in the process of defecting to the US.  The KGB could never allow that to happen."

"So they stuck my brother and I in that hellhole just because they wanted to punish my father and mother?"

"I'm afraid so. You were both the innocent victims of the State's revenge.''

"Their bodies, what happened to them?"

"There is no way to locate their bodies. Traitors were often buried without any ceremony."

"Now you have had your favor.'' Viktor stands. "I must have mine."



Any hope I had of finding my parents' grave died in Victor's cavernous  library. I feel numb. There is no feeling in my heart. The next day I  throw myself into the task of finding out where Viktor's money is  disappearing to. I start my investigation with Viktor's business  partners, in particular those who have been the longest with Viktor.

I find the culprit quickly, but I have to prove it, as he has been  connected with Viktor's family for twenty years, and Viktor's not going  to want to believe it.

I spend hours and hours collecting all the evidence I need, record upon  record going back years, before I go to see Viktor. By the time Viktor's  rage subsides, we both know there is no doubt about his guilt. I get  the authorization to pay the disloyal snake a visit.

When we sit down it's obvious from his nervousness and body language  that he knows the game is up. I calmly lay the evidence on the table  before his eyes and wait for his response.

"What will Viktor do?" he asks.         

     



 

"That depends on you being smart."

Beads of sweat appear on his brow as he calculates. I let him sweat a  little longer before I make him our offer. Fortunately, he chooses  wisely.

A speedy and early retirement.

I have him sign all the paperwork I prepared so we can seize control of  all the assets he bought with funds he embezzled from Viktor.

It's only later that I find the hidden gem.

The embezzler had acquired a huge stock of privately held shares in  multiple state controlled aluminum mines in Siberia, Krasnoyarsk and  Bratsk. I see the opportunity instantly.

True luck is all about timing.

My timing was impeccable. Large private players with billions of funds  at their disposal were seeking to monopolize the aluminum industry,  buying all that they could get their hands on. We sold the embezzler's  stock for more than seven billion dollars.

My percentage meant I was suddenly a billionaire.

The celebration was to be short lived for Viktor. Things were changing  fast in Russia. Viktor flew in his private jet to Switzerland to count  his money. It was to be his last day of freedom. Interpol and Swiss  Federal police storm his plane on the runway, seizing five million  dollars in undeclared funds.