Page 34 of The Debt

“Dedushka?” Tatiana squeezed her grandfather’s arm. “You invited him here. Are you going to be a hospitable host?” She blinked once, as if silently begging him to take her feelings into account.

“Farrel,” Polov shook his hand stiffly, then immediately sat back down. “Let’s eat. The food is already cold.”

Jarek took his seat beside Tatiana. He watched with amusement as Polov stabbed at his borscht with barely contained fury. The old man’s pride had taken a hit, and his knuckles were white around his soup spoon. Every few seconds, Polov’s eyes would dart to him, as if trying to place where he might have seen him before, but he wouldn’t—Jarek had been thorough in erasing all traces of his past.

“So, Mr. Farrel,” Elizabeth’s melodic voice cut through the tension. “Tell us about your work.”

“I guess you could call me an entrepreneur.” He sampled the soup, allowing genuine appreciation to show. “In short, I’m an investor, a collector and seller of rare art, and owner of a statewide import-export company.” Jarek didn’t miss Polov’s sudden interest.

“That sounds like quite the achievement. We should talk about art sometime.” She gestured at the paintings adorning the walls. “I, too, am a collector of rare pieces. And your family, where are—”

“Actually,” Jarek interrupted smoothly as he took Tatiana’s hand. The movement drew all attention away from dangerous territory. “Did Tatiana tell you about our visit to Six Flags?”

Tatiana's face lit up exactly as he’d known it would. He had studied her reactions for months and knew how to manipulate her emotions with careful precision. The genuine joy in her eyes should have made him feel guilty. Instead, he felt nothing.

“Ah, yes. The Big Dipper.” She squeezed his fingers. “It was so much fun but also terrifying.”

He played his role perfectly, bringing her hand to his lips. “You screamed the whole way down.”

“I warned you I had a fear of heights.” Her laughter rang through the room. “And yes, I was scared… a little.”

“A little? The entire park heard you.” He threw in a besotted look for good measure, watching from his peripheral vision as Polov’s scowl softened at his apparent affection.

The rest of the meal passed in carefully orchestrated domesticity. Jarek played the attentive suitor, hanging on Tatiana’s every word while touching her with noted tenderness. When she blushed, he smiled. When she joked, he laughed. It was a perfect performance.

“Do you remember when you were ten?” Elizabeth beamed at Tatiana. “Standing on your grandfather’s desk, boldly announcing your presidential campaign?”

Polov finally relaxed enough to join in. “She had a whole speech prepared, fully intending to change the world.’” He chuckled as the wine and memories mellowed his earlier anger.

Jarek wasn’t fooled by the change. Deep down, he would always be a cruel, murdering bastard.

“She still does.” Jarek raised his glass. A hint of his true self surfaced as his eyes darkened. “Some of us spend our whole lives working toward change. Watching. Waiting. Planning. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Polov?”

“Indeed.” The old man just nodded, missing the steel beneath the velvet. He didn’t recognize the wolf at his table. Not yet.

Jarek sipped his wine as he savored the moment. Soon enough, Polov would understand exactly who he had invited into his home. Soon enough, he would remember the innocent people and the family he had killed in a territorial war two decades ago.

For now, Jarek would play his part—the perfect suitor, the successful businessman, and the man in love.

“Really, Gregor?” Elizabeth’s lips thinned as Polov’s phone shattered the dinner conversation. “At the table?”

Polov’s face relaxed as he checked the caller ID. “I have to take this.” He got up quickly and walked out of the room. Elizabeth’s disapproving sigh followed him into the hallway.

Jarek lifted his wine glass and took a sip to hide his smile behind the rim. He’d been waiting for this call.

“Blyat’!” Polov’s voice thundered from the hall. “How the fuck did that happen?”

Tatiana flinched at her grandfather’s tone. Elizabeth murmured an apology, but Jarek was focused entirely on the unfolding drama. Each word was music to his ears.

“My offer was above the asking price. No one else would pay that much!” Polov’s heavy footsteps paced the marble floors in the hallway. “Who? What do you mean you can’t tell me? I don’t give a fuck about closed corporations and confidentiality agreements!”

Jarek savored a bite of his beef stroganoff. Satisfaction at listening to Polov’s control cracking warmed him better than any wine or meal could. The deed for Cherokee Sunrise Casino Resort had been transferred to one of his shell companies just forty-eight hours ago. Paid with three hundred million in cash, untraceable through a web of offshore accounts. The old man had never seen it coming.

“First Boston Finance fucked me over, then I lost the shipping routes, and now this?” Something crashed against a wall. Elizabeth closed her eyes as her lips moved in what might be a silent prayer. “Find the fuck out who’s behind this, Ivor. I don’t care what it costs.”

Jarek watched Polov’s shadow pace past the doorway as he savored his reaction. It had taken years, but now, he was finally dismantling Polov’s empire… piece by piece. The casino was the perfect cover for Jarek’s own operations, just as Polov had intended for himself.

Poetic justice at its finest.

---