Page 2 of Roman Petrov

Seems some issues are hitting the home base.

Dad did say there were some problems, but he was getting them straightened out.

He is fierce when it comes to squashing out troublemakers. I learned from the best.

“Let’s hurry that up. Throw some extra men on it. I want a solid offer by tomorrow.” The faster I can take ownership of the Empire, the sooner I can start making it profitable.

“Yes, boss.”

2

NADIA

Numb. With everything going on, I feel like I’m caught in a whirlwind of unknown faces, accounts, bills, and employees. And, they all want me to make a decision immediately.

I don’t want to do any of it.

It had been almost seven years since the last time I even spoke to my father. He actually had the audacity to show up at my house on my twenty-fifth birthday and demand some of the money my mother had set into my trust.

Funny, he said he had “forgotten” when her funeral was, but he remembered exactly what day the funds were made available.

That was the only time I was grateful that my ex-husband was there. It was handy to be married to a lawyer.

“Ms. Sanders, the property in question is at seven-fifty Las Quatra Boulevard. I’ll meet you there at three.” Garland’s voice has a slight nasal whine as he talks.

For being my father’s attorney, he’s actually been fairly cordial.

The building is just a huge, dark, rectangle. There’s slits of windows on the second story, but none on the first.

It looks like a giant bomb shelter.

I know what he did in there, though. Why would anyone want to go into a sex club, much less own one?

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of having to go inside. I’ve spent my entire life trying to avoid this place.

Maybe that’s why I hurried to marry Carl. I ran off with the first man who offered to change my name.

Stupidly. Never marry someone who’s self-centered and gone often.

I thought years of bad sex and emotional neglect was bad enough.

Getting a divorce from a man who knew the full legal system was a nightmare that I’m glad is over.

Garland’s squat frame and slicked comb-over, hustles across the hot parking lot when he sees me pull in.

When I climb out of my Mercedes, my Gucci heels stick to the heated asphalt.

“We don’t have to be long. There’s only a few small formalities that go along with the will. You’re the beneficiary of his bank accounts, and are also responsible for payroll.” He shuffles as he walks next to my brisk pace.

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s get this over with so I can sell this place and be done with it.” I don’t wait for him, but fling the heavy steel door open myself.

“Well, about that. There’s some details in his paperwork you’re going to need to be aware of.” He doesn’t look at me, but steps in front to lead me inside the building.

It smells faintly of bleach and lemons.

Not what I expected.

There are a handful of people milling around what looks to be a bar alcove on one side of the lobby.

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