Page 142 of Ruthless Lullaby

I take a few bites of the caviar sandwiches from a passing tray and down a glass of water. I smooth my suit, erasing the last traces of wrinkles, and glance at my watch as the second-hand ticks away the final moments before Tramoxine is revealed to the world. Anticipation buzzes through me, electrifying the air around me. It’s time to step into the spotlight, face the crowd, and make the announcement that will change everything.

Not even the stupid questions the press poured on me downstairs can get in the way of this moment. This pill will change the course of history and I will be the man who gifts it to the world.

"Ready," I tell Igor, "let's do this."

As soon as we step onto the stage and the lights flood the platform, the crowd erupts in applause. The energy in the room is palpable, a mixture of excitement and curiosity that hangs thick in the air. All eyes are on us, the expectations as high as the stakes tonight. Everyone knows that there is a big announcement to be made, but nobody knows the exact details.

I approach the microphone and begin my speech. "Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome. For those who don’t know me, I am Maron Korolev, and it is an honor to stand before you tonight. I am joined by my esteemed colleague and dear friend, Mr. Igor Belayev. Mr. Belayev is not only a brilliant mind in the field of medical research but also the driving force behind a groundbreaking project that will transform the landscape of mental health. Together, we have worked tirelessly to bring you something truly exceptional: Tramoxine, a pill that will revolutionize mental health and change countless lives for the better."

I take a moment to scan the crowd, allowing my words to sink in. The audience is silent. Their attention seems fully captivated, all eyes fixed on us with anticipation.

"Tonight, this groundbreaking medicine will guide you on a transformative journey of self-awareness and healing," I continue. "This is an experience unlike any other. Expect a journey that will open your mind, expand your consciousness, and help you confront and overcome your deepest traumas, fears, and other mental health challenges."

I step aside, handing the microphone to Igor. He steps forward with a determined look, his expression serious and focused.

"Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, "before we get started, I must emphasize one crucial point: as you know this is an alcohol-free event. The reason for this is that no alcohol should be consumed while taking Tramoxine. This is critical and we expect all our participants to take this seriously. The effects of Tramoxine will last approximately two hours, during which time our trained assistants will be monitoring each and every one of you." He looks out over the crowd. "In the unlikely event that anyone experiences adverse reactions or discomfort, our team is fully prepared to provide immediate care and support. Your safety and well-being are our first priority."

As Igor finishes spelling out the disclaimers, I feel a buzz of excitement rippling through the room.The audience crackles with lively energy as the beat of the shamanic drums fills the air. It is a primal, hypnotic rhythm that is proven to enhance the effects of the treatment. The lights dim, casting an otherworldly glow over the crowd.

The helpers emerge and begin to move through the room, distributing the pills. Each guest takes their dedicated dose.

As the drums build to a powerful crescendo, the effects of Tramoxine begin to take hold. Guests sway subtly, their bodies instinctively aligning with the ancient rhythm. Some close their eyes, their expressions softening as they drift into a trance-like state. Others gasp, eyes widening in awe as they experience the first tingles of the promised out-of-body sensations. They feel themselves lifting, their consciousness stretching beyond the limits of their physical forms, as if they’re floating above the room, liberated from the constraints of reality.

I smirk as I bask in the initial moments of the world experiencing my master creation. Watching the guests’ reactions, I feel a surge of pride and exhilaration. This is exactly what I aimed for: the awe and wonder of my invention making its mark. Even those thick-headed Bratva fuckers who have known nothing but blood and violence their entire lives are having vivid, out-of-body experiences. I've never seen them like this before.

The helpers circulate through the crowd, their eyes watchful and their movements calm. They offer gentle guidance and reassurance to those who need it, ensuring that everyone remains safe and comfortable throughout their journey into their own minds.

Tramoxine is working like a fucking charm. Witnessing its effects on a hall full of people is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. This pill is more powerful than I had dared to hope. The subjects are visibly undergoing healing and self-discovery at levels they never could have imagined. Their minds and souls are expanding in ways they never thought possible.

But as I stand there, reveling in my victory, a sense of unease washes over me. It's a flicker of discomfort, an air of danger. Despite the triumph, a nagging thought gnaws at the edge of my mind, hinting that this perfect moment might not be as flawless as it seems. Something is off.

Bullshit, Korolev.

Everything is in perfect order.

Stop being paranoid, dolboyob!

People are healing, the treatment is working, and everything is exactly as it should be. This is my legacy, my gift to the world. My redemption for all of the shit I’ve done in my life and the pain I caused. This magic pill is the future. It will curemillions of fucked-up people. It can even help Maurice beat his drinking and gambling problems and finally do something with his miserable life besides being my errand boy.

Speak of the devil, where the fuck is Maurice? He should be here by now, celebrating with us. I didn’t even see him in the crowd as I was making my announcement.

I take a look around, my eyes searching the room for him. He is nowhere to be found. And what about Mindy? She should be here too. Did they both just disappear into thin air? How is it that everyone important is here except those two?

"Bratok," I turn to Igor, "stay here and make sure everything is in order. I’ll be back in a few minutes."

Without waiting for Igor’s response, I head off stage, and make my way through the swaying crowd. My heart pounds faster with every step. Something deep inside me is telling me that something is very fucking wrong.

I just need to find out what it is.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Maron

As I leave the crowd behind and step out of the Silver Room, I almost crash into Pavel. The face of my second-in-command is twisted into a scowl as he approaches me.

"Boss," he says, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. "I was coming to see you. You're not going to like this."

On the screen of Pavel’s phone, a red banner blares 'BREAKING NEWS.' I lean in, and my goddamn heart almost stops beating in my chest as I read the headline that follows.

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