Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO WANTED THE THRONE
Mikhail arrived at the mansion before anyone summoned him.
That alone bothered Dmitri.
He walked into Alexei’s study dressed in an immaculate black coat.
Thirty-seven.
Handsome.
Charming.
The Petrov brother who appeared in society pages instead of business journals.
He embraced Alexei.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m alive.”
“Who did it?”
Alexei’s eyes stayed on him.
“That’s what we’re determining.”
Mikhail’s expression changed only slightly.
Then he noticed Maria polishing the bookshelves nearby.
“This conversation is private.”
Alexei answered:
“Maria is working.”
It was small.
But Maria noticed.
Alexei had stopped letting relatives decide which employees were furniture.
The independent investigation continued.
The hacked credential looked like Mikhail’s.
But digital evidence can be copied.
His attorney immediately argued compromise.
Reasonable.
Then financial auditors found motive.
Petrov Logistics had been preparing a major restructuring.
Alexei planned to place several core businesses under an independent holding company with outside directors.
The old family voting agreement would be amended.
Mikhail would lose significant informal influence.
Not money.
Influence.
His shares remained valuable.
But he would no longer be able to use the family name to move money between subsidiaries without review.
Then came another discovery.
Three months before Alexei collapsed, Mikhail had pledged part of his personal Petrov distributions against loans totaling nearly $28 million.
The lenders expected his future income to remain high.
If Alexei completed the restructuring, some discretionary family distributions could decrease.
Again—
motive.
Not proof.
Then Maria noticed something unrelated.
Sophie hated Mikhail.
Children dislike people for ridiculous reasons.
Shoes.
Voices.
Mustaches.
But Sophie’s reaction was different.
Every time Mikhail entered a room, she hid behind Maria.
One afternoon, he approached with candy.
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
Mikhail smiled.
“Come on, doctor.”
She backed away.
Maria knelt.
“You don’t have to take it.”
Mikhail looked irritated.
“It’s candy.”
“She said no.”
His smile disappeared.
For half a second, something ugly passed across his face.
Then he walked away.
That night Sophie asked:
“Mommy, why does that man lie?”
Maria’s pulse shifted.
“What lie?”
“He said he didn’t touch the coffee.”
Maria went still.
“When did he say that?”
“When I was coloring.”
“Who was he talking to?”
“The gray man.”
Dmitri wore gray most days.
“What did he say exactly?”
Sophie thought hard.
Four-year-olds are terrible witnesses if adults lead them.
Maria knew enough not to feed her words.
Sophie finally said:
“He said, ‘I never touched his coffee.’”
Maria’s stomach tightened.
Nobody had publicly accused Mikhail of touching anything.
Why was he denying physical contact before being asked?
Still not proof.
But worth reporting.
Maria told Dmitri.
He immediately documented her statement and instructed everyone not to question Sophie further.
Good.
Then investigators reviewed hallway audio from a security sensor outside the west conference room.
The video had no direct view of the tray.
The microphone captured voices.
A door opened.
Someone said:
“Leave it.”
The voice was male.
Then a faint clink.
Seven seconds later:
Footsteps.
Audio specialists could not conclusively identify the voice.
But timing placed only two known people nearby.
Mikhail.
And Irina Volkov—
Dmitri’s younger sister.
Alexei’s chief financial officer.
Suddenly, the investigation had two suspects.
May you like
And one of them controlled almost every number inside the empire.
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