“I’m trimming the fat,” I tell him. “You get a little richer. They’ll still get rich, but they’ll have to skim from someone else.”
For the briefest second, I think I see pride in his eyes. My father has never been the warm and fuzzy type. He’s never hung my childhood artwork on the fridge or attended parent teacher conferences. I know what I am to him—his heir. The one he got instead of the son he wanted. That does not require praise. Hell, it doesn’t even require love. It’s not a traditional father-daughter relationship, but few people in our world have traditional relationships. It just is what it is, and I’ve accepted that.
"I see," he says, which is high praise from Mikhail Baranov. He straightens a paper on his desk that doesn't need straightening. "I'll review the comparison."
"I'll have it sent over today."
“Check the door,” he says.
I get to my feet, open the door and scan the hall. No one is lurking and eavesdropping. I close the door and turn the lock. I push a button to turn on the white noise machine that will muffle our voices. There are weekly scans of the entire property to check for listening devices. In all my years, there has never been one found, but my father is a careful man. He doesn’t take chances with his freedom or his position.
“I’m dying,” he says without preamble.
I knew this, but I believe he thought he would win the battle against mortality.
“The cancer is in my lungs. My bones.”
I listen.
I keep my face composed and listen to my father describe his own death like he's briefing me on a quarterly projection.
"The timeline is accelerating," he says. "I had planned for two more years. It will be less."
"How much less?"
"Perhaps one. Perhaps less than one." He says it without flinching. A man who has accepted his fate. "You will inherit everything. The legitimate holdings, the other operations, all of it."
"I know. I've been getting myself ready, just like you’ve told me to do."
He studies me for a moment. "I know what you've been doing," he says. "With the businesses. The restructuring. The meetings." He pauses. "I've let you."
Heletme.
Not that he didn't notice. He noticed everything. He made a choice to stand back and watch, to see what I would do. It’s been an audition. The last year of me quietly running things has been a test.
I should be annoyed he tested me from a distance, not the way he would have a son. I'm not. Not really.
“I have proven I can run the business.” I state it. I don’t question it. I’ve proven it.
He almost smiles. "There are other divisions you are not yet fully informed about. Medical supply. Some international logistics. When the time comes, you will be briefed fully."
Medical supply.I know the Baranov portfolio has a subsidiary in medical equipment distribution of devices, surgical supplies, contracts with mid-size hospitals up and down the Eastern Seaboard. It's one of the smaller holdings. It’s more import/export, nothing that requires a lot of attention. I make a mental note to look closer.
"Anything I should know now?" I ask.
"Not yet." He coughs, reaching for a tissue and covering his mouth. I see the dots of pink against white before he tosses it in the trash. “The transition needs to be managed carefully. There are relationships that require maintenance. People who will test a new head of the family."
"I know."
"You don't know yet," he says, not unkindly. "You think you do. You'll learn quickly enough when it begins. You're my daughter and my only heir. This is yours. Don't waste it."
From my father, that passes as love.
“Understood.”
He waves a hand, basically telling me to leave.
I turn off the white noise machine and leave his study. The house sits outside of the city on four acres surrounded by what is said to be an invincible fence. Guards everywhere. Security camerascover every inch. Heavy locks and doors thick enough to stop bullets. I climb the stairs to my bedroom and barely notice any of it. Before the night at the club, I thought it was overkill. It took that night to appreciate the safety of these walls. When I become the head of the bratva, these walls will be put to the test. But I will never hide. Never show fear. Never again.