Chapter 13 - Chicago Comes to Moscow
Vadim refused to speculate about Evelyn’s death.
Elara was grateful.
The ledger showed financial connections.
Nothing more.
Her mother had been ill.
The death certificate was legitimate.
There was no evidence of anything darker.
Elara had spent enough of her life living inside fear. She refused to invent new horrors without facts.
The actual truth was already painful enough.
Taras had worked with Morozov for nearly two decades.
Some of the transactions appeared connected to ordinary businesses.
Others did not.
Vadim’s attorneys delivered copies to federal investigators.
For the first time, the situation moved beyond family conflict.
Taras was no longer simply Elara’s father.
He was a businessman facing serious questions.
The legal claim against Elara weakened quickly.
Daniel’s letter proved Taras knew about Evelyn’s trust.
Financial records showed misuse.
Independent medical evaluations—requested by Elara herself—found no basis for claims that she lacked decision-making capacity.
The humiliation Taras hoped to create began turning against him.
Still, Elara did something unexpected.
She left Chicago before the final hearing.
Vadim questioned her.
“You don’t want to watch?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because winning doesn’t require me to enjoy watching him lose.”
Vadim studied her.
“You are kinder than he deserves.”
“It isn’t kindness.”
“What is it?”
“Distance.”
They returned to Moscow.
But Chicago followed.
Natalia came with them temporarily.
Celine stayed behind.
She had barely spoken to Elara during the entire scandal.
That hurt more than Elara admitted.
Then, one evening, Celine called.
“Elara?”
Elara nearly didn’t answer.
“What?”
“I need help.”
The words sounded impossible coming from Celine.
“With what?”
“Dad.”
Elara’s body tensed.
“What happened?”
“He wants me to sign ownership documents.”
“Don’t.”
“I already told him no.”
Elara sat down.
“What did he do?”
“He threatened to cut me off.”
Elara almost laughed.
“Welcome to the club.”
“Elara, please.”
The fear in Celine’s voice stopped her.
“What do you need?”
“I want to leave Chicago.”
Elara glanced toward Vadim.
He heard enough to understand.
“Come here,” Elara said.
Celine arrived three days later.
For the first time, all three Fagan sisters were under the same roof without Taras.
It was uncomfortable.
Old resentments surfaced immediately.
At dinner, Celine complained about the cold.
Natalia snapped that she complained about everything.
Elara laughed.
Both sisters stared.
“What?” Celine asked.
“I just realized nothing has changed.”
Then all three started laughing.
It was fragile.
But real.
Later, Celine entered Elara’s room.
“I owe you an apology.”
Elara closed her book.
“For which decade?”
Celine winced.
“Fair.”
She sat.
“Dad always compared us.”
“I noticed.”
“He told me if I gained weight, I’d end up like you.”
Elara’s face went still.
Celine continued quickly.
“I’m not telling you to hurt you. I’m telling you because I was afraid of becoming the person he treated badly.”
“So you helped him treat me badly.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
But it also mattered.
Celine looked down.
“I’m sorry.”
Elara considered.
“I don’t forgive everything yet.”
Celine nodded.
“I understand.”
“But you can stay.”
Her sister began crying.
Elara handed her tissues.
“Please don’t ruin my image as the damaged one.”
Celine laughed through tears.
The next morning, Vadim received a visitor.
His grandmother.
Svetlana Sokolova entered the house wrapped in white fur and carrying the authority of someone who had spent eight decades ignoring people who told her what to do.
Vadim looked genuinely alarmed.
“You were in Switzerland.”
“I became bored.”
“You could have called.”
“I did.”
“You informed me while the plane was landing.”
“That counts.”
Her gaze found Elara.
“So.”
Elara braced herself.
Svetlana approached.
She looked Elara up and down.
Then hugged her.
Elara froze.
“You are warmer than my grandson.”
Vadim closed his eyes.
“Babushka.”
“What?”
Svetlana took Elara’s hands.
“Has he been difficult?”
“Frequently.”
“Good. You’re not afraid of him.”
Vadim muttered something in Russian.
Svetlana ignored him.
Over lunch she asked Elara about books, Chicago and what she wanted to study.
Not once did she ask about children.
Elara finally said, “Vadim said you wanted grandchildren.”
Svetlana looked offended.
“I want many things. A villa in Sicily. Better knees. Your husband to stop working every hour.”
Vadim looked annoyed.
She continued.
“What I want is my problem.”
Elara stared.
Svetlana squeezed her hand.
“What you want is yours.”
Elara’s eyes suddenly burned.
Apparently boundaries ran somewhere in the Sokolov family after all.
That evening, everyone gathered for dinner.
Natalia.
Celine.
Svetlana.
Mikhail.
Vadim.
Elara looked around the table.
It was the loudest meal she had eaten in years.
Nobody asked her to hide.
Nobody pretended she wasn’t there.
She caught Vadim watching her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The silent staring.”
“You look happy.”
Elara smiled.
“I think I am.”
Later, when the house became quiet, she found him on the terrace.
Snow covered the gardens.
“You gave my sisters rooms.”
“Yes.”
“Your grandmother has taken over the house.”
“Yes.”
“You look exhausted.”
“Yes.”
Elara laughed.
Then she became serious.
“The hearing ended today.”
“I know.”
“Dad lost.”
“I know.”
“The court recognized the trust.”
“I know.”
“So financially, I don’t need this marriage anymore.”
Vadim’s expression didn’t move.
“No.”
Elara stepped closer.
“I could leave.”
“Yes.”
She waited.
He said nothing else.
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then ask me to stay.”
Vadim stared.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, the feared Vadim Sokolov looked uncertain.
“Elara.”
“Ask.”
His voice became quiet.
“Stay.”
Her heart thundered.
“Why?”
“Because when you are gone, I notice.”
She smiled faintly.
“That’s terrible.”
“I warned you about romance.”
“Try again.”
Vadim exhaled.
“Stay because this house feels different with you in it.”
“Better.”
“Stay because I wait for your footsteps outside my office.”
Her eyes softened.
“Better.”
“Stay because I want tomorrow with you even when I don’t know what tomorrow looks like.”
Elara stopped breathing.
“That one,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Keep that one.”
She stepped closer.
Their faces were inches apart.
This time she didn’t stop.
Elara kissed him.
Softly.
Briefly.
Her first kiss.
Vadim remained perfectly still until she moved back.
She looked terrified.
“Was that terrible?”
His eyes opened.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Elara.”
“Yes?”
“If I answer honestly, you may become arrogant.”
She smiled.
“Risk it.”
“It was worth waiting for.”
And somewhere in Chicago, Taras Fagan received notice that he had lost control of Evelyn’s trust.
Seconds later, another message arrived.
Viktor Morozov wanted payment.
Taras had run out of daughters to trade.
So this time, he would have to offer something else.
May you like
Vadim Sokolov.
---
