Page 7 of Koroleva

I was certain I knew who was responsible for my brother's death and the possible lethal effects of Mentium. It was too much of a coincidence that we had had the product on the market for two years, and only now was it showing such severe suicidal tendencies.

The formula had been tampered with; I was convinced, and I had a suspicion that it all pointed back to the same source: the 'Ndrangheta.

I had the entire stock of Mentium withdrawn and destroyed, which meant our competitors were rubbing their hands in glee as their products and the shares of their pharmaceutical companies soared amidst the scandal.

The rage I felt broke my limits. I wanted to gather all my men, go to Malaga, and destroy that bastard and his entire clan with a single shot between the eyes. But I knew that wasn’t enough, at least, not for me. I wanted a thorough destruction; I was going to do it from the inside, using the weapon my father had shown me: patience.

That’s how my wedding plan with the eldest son of Massimo Capuleto began.

4

Mentium

Massimo Capuleto was known to be a bastard, but there was someone even worse than him: his son. He had pretended to be my brother's friend, only to steal his idea and ultimately annihilate him.

I contacted the Capuletos through an email.

I only saw Massimo Capuleto once. He showed up in St. Petersburg for Yuri's funeral. He came alone, without his beloved son, intending to offer condolences to my father and take the opportunity to make an offer to buy the pharmaceutical company. Such audacity!

Days later, he insisted again, this time via email, and my father gave him the same response. We were not going to sell.

I didn't hear from the Capuletos again until the news of the suicides emerged.

The Italian contacted me again via a phone call that left me trembling with anger.

"Don't take it the wrong way, Miss Koroleva. My intention is to help. As you can understand, the value of your company has decreased significantly, and now that neither your father nor your brother can take care of it, I thought I might relieve you of this burden."

"You're offering me three hundred percent less than last time!" I exclaimed furiously.

"Well, last time, your star medication wasn't killing people. You must admit that the reputation of your pharmaceutical is under scrutiny, and you don't have too many options, nor offers as advantageous as mine. Think about it."

I felt like spitting in his face. The bad thing was that it wouldn't make an impact over the phone.

I became more and more convinced that he and his son were behind everything.

I didn't want to respond. I needed to reorder my mind and get things straight before making a decision.

I could sell and do something else, or fight and regain the lost credibility.

I considered all options, letting the rage turn into something much colder and more calculated.

If I analyzed it carefully, it was a big game where the winner wasn't the one who moved first, but the one with the best strategy.

I fit each piece together in my brain, like one of those five thousand-piece puzzles I loved to do.

I pondered each possibility and didn't stop until I came up with the right strategy.

Only then did I pick up the phone and ensure a call with Massimo Capuleto himself.

"I didn't expect to hear your voice so soon."

"I hope it's not an inconvenience."

"On the contrary, I'm glad to do so. Have you decided whether to accept my offer or not?"

"That's why I was calling you."

"And?"

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