Chapter 3 - Viktor’s Brother Was Watching Me—And the Night He Came to the Diner, He Called Misha by a Name That Should Have Been Buried ForeverStefan Volkov arrived twenty minutes later.
He entered the diner smiling.
I recognized him immediately.
Same eyes as Viktor.
Similar build.
But where Viktor felt like controlled danger, Stefan felt like chaos barely pretending to be civilized.
He removed his coat.
“Amelia Hayes.”
“You know my name.”
“I know everything about people who enter my family.”
I didn't like the way he said it.
“You were watching me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He smiled.
“To see whether Viktor made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“Hiring you.”
I crossed my arms.
“Misha likes me.”
“That is the problem.”
I stared.
“What?”
Stefan looked around the diner.
“You believe you're saving him.”
“I am helping him.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You are becoming important to him.”
“And?”
“And important people become targets.”
I looked at him.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“A warning.”
He left.
I immediately called Viktor.
“He came here.”
“I know.”
“What does he want?”
“You.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“I'll explain tonight.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I don't like being kept in the dark.”
There was silence.
Then he said,
“You deserve the truth.”
That evening, he came to the diner alone.
No guards.
No suit.
Just a black shirt and coat.
He sat across from me.
“My brother believes Misha belongs to the family.”
“He's your son.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“He believes Misha should inherit everything.”
I frowned.
“Everything?”
“The company.”
“The money.”
“The family.”
I stared.
“That's why he's scared of you.”
“He doesn't fear me.”
“He should.”
Viktor looked exhausted.
“My father was murdered.”
I froze.
“I thought he died naturally.”
“That is what everyone believes.”
“Who killed him?”
“We don't know.”
“Stefan?”
“I don't know.”
“But you suspect him.”
“Yes.”
“What about your wife?”
“Isabella.”
“Misha said she died in an accident.”
Viktor looked down.
“She was investigating my father's death.”
“And then?”
“She disappeared.”
I stared.
“You said she died.”
“I believed she did.”
My heart pounded.
“What happened?”
“Car crash.”
“Was her body found?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“But identification was based on dental records.”
“That sounds certain.”
“It wasn't.”
“Why?”
“Because three months later, someone sent me a photograph of her alive.”
I froze.
“Alive?”
He nodded.
“Where?”
“Outside a hospital in Geneva.”
“Did you find her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the photograph disappeared.”
I didn't understand.
“Who had it?”
“Stefan.”
Silence.
“So you think your brother is involved.”
“Yes.”
“Why hasn't he been arrested?”
“Because I have no proof.”
I leaned back.
“This isn't just about Misha.”
“No.”
“It is about your wife.”
“Yes.”
“And your father.”
“Yes.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Viktor looked at me.
“Everything.”
I didn't like that answer.
Before I could question him, the door opened.
Misha ran in.
“Papa.”
Viktor stood.
“What happened?”
Misha looked at me.
“Someone gave me this.”
He held out a photograph.
It showed Isabella.
Holding a baby.
Misha.
And beside her—
a second child.
A little girl.
I stared.
“Who is that?”
Misha whispered,
“She had a sister.”
Viktor's expression changed.
“My wife was never pregnant with twins.”
Misha looked at him.
“She said there was.”
Viktor turned toward me.
Suddenly, something became very wrong.
We returned to the mansion.
Isabella's old records were brought out.
Pregnancy.
One baby.
Misha.
No second child.
I asked,
“Could the records have been changed?”
Viktor went still.
“Yes.”
That night, Misha showed us a box hidden beneath his bed.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
A tiny hospital bracelet.
It read:
BABY GIRL VOLKOV — ROOM 318.
Viktor stared at it.
“My God.”
I picked up another photograph.
Isabella.
Holding two babies.
One was Misha.
The other looked almost identical.
“What happened to her?”
Nobody answered.
Then the mansion alarm sounded.
Security rushed in.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Someone breached the east gate.”
Viktor grabbed his weapon.
Misha grabbed my hand.
We moved toward the safe room.
Then we heard a voice over the intercom.
Stefan.
“Viktor.”
My blood chilled.
“Send Amelia to me.”
Viktor answered,
“No.”
Stefan laughed.
“Then I'll take her.”
Gunfire erupted downstairs.
Misha screamed.
Viktor pushed us into the safe room.
“Stay here.”
“I can help.”
“No.”
“You need someone with him.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“That's exactly how people die in my world.”
Then he left.
Minutes passed.
Gunfire.
Shouting.
Then silence.
The safe room door opened.
Viktor stood there.
Blood on his shirt.
Not his.
“Is he dead?”
“No.”
“Did he escape?”
“Yes.”
Viktor walked toward me.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded.
He looked at Misha.
Then at the photograph.
His jaw tightened.
“We need to find that girl.”
“Why?”
“Because if she's alive…”
May you like
He looked at me.
“…she may be the reason my wife was killed.”
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