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The Price Of Their Name

Chapter 3 The Formal Interrogation

Word Count: 1405    |    Released on: 14/12/2025

Va

ers dug tight into the leather of the chair, my reflection in the

nce morning, compounded by Sasha's last text: "Pretend you're aud

a quiet, internal betrayal. I had allowed myself to be utterly consumed by

ding didn't just stand; it loomed. I paid, feeling the i

in amplifying the uncomfortable pressure in my che

rm, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "Arthur was just sharing details about the global

nimalist. It was terrifying in its spareness. The view was overwhelming, the million l

for adjusting the time to join us," he stated, his voice deep. His tone l

Mr. Volkov," I replied, ensur

g the investment thesis for the Volkov Global Trus

. "It's remarkable, Leo. They manage so much

and highly analytical, fixed entirely on me. This felt less

ic ventures, Leo," Arthur began, the word "m

ure my life," I replied, resis

ibition space, I underst

dent artists," I attempted to proj

timize, to leverage, or merely to

ce of furniture. He is utterly correct by his metrics. The self-doubt was paralyzin

rger institutional funding," I countered, looking him dir

phere shift. "He's extremely dedicated, Arthur

often, in the corporate theater, loyalty is merely unexecuted dependency. It is far more advantageou

crambling. "I operate wit

nation allows one to persist. Necessity compels one to dominate. My son

. I'm so eager for you to meet Dmitri and Ivan, Leo. They are such

d be present at any moment. They had to finalize somet

double doors leading from the

sn't just a thickening of the air; it became palpably char

ogues: imposing height, aggressive shoulder width, radiating a synchronized au

deeper than their attire. It was in their controlled, deliberate gait, their

lungs locked. The half-full glass in

harp, unyielding line of the jaw, the penetrating, stormy gray eyes that held both contempt

was

e but whose demands my body had answered with shameful abandon. The man whose shoulder

reality. This is a cruel

slept with him. I lost my composure to him. He is Arthur Volkov's son.

pe outside blurring into an abstract smear. I felt a dizzy

unaware of the nuclear reaction occurring near his future stepson. "Dmitri

efore his eyes settled squarely on mine. The indifference shattered, replaced by a momentary, terrifying flash of intense recogni

the second man. The on

g height, the same sharp, dominant jaw, the

ins. I hadn't internalized the co

hronized movement making them appear

et the admirable people joining our family. Eleanor, you k

in a sterile, high-rise suite, locked onto mine. There was no prete

, feeling small and utterly exposed. He did not extend a hand. He simply held

ed, his voice low and rich, the same demanding rumble from the night before.

searched for air, for an escape route, for a den

harming smile that failed to reach the cold depths of his eyes. His ga

d and closing his fingers around mine before I could retreat, his touch se

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