Chapter 16 - An Empire She Never Asked For
Vadim discovered that planning a wedding with Elara was more difficult than negotiating international contracts.
“No white roses,” she said.
He looked up.
“We had white roses before.”
“Exactly.”
“Understood.”
“No ballroom.”
“Fine.”
“No six hundred guests.”
“I did not suggest six hundred.”
“Your grandmother did.”
“She invites people emotionally.”
“What does that mean?”
“She assumes everyone she has met since 1968 is family.”
Elara laughed.
They settled on forty-eight guests.
Then Svetlana increased it to sixty-two without permission.
Mikhail quietly reduced it to fifty-five.
Nobody told Svetlana.
Meanwhile Elara returned to university remotely.
She enrolled in a graduate translation program.
The first time an email arrived addressed to Elara Fagan-Sokolova, Graduate Student, she stared at it for five minutes.
Vadim noticed.
“Problem?”
“No.”
She turned the laptop.
“That.”
He read it.
“You don’t like the name?”
“I do.”
“Then?”
“I forgot I could become something unrelated to anybody’s company.”
Vadim kissed the top of her head.
“You were always something unrelated to anybody’s company.”
That evening, Mikhail brought business documents.
Elara groaned.
“Not mine.”
“They may be.”
She looked up.
“What?”
Vadim sat opposite her.
“One of the logistics divisions previously owned by Taras may be sold.”
“So?”
“I’m considering buying it.”
Elara’s face tightened.
“Why?”
“It’s profitable.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“What’s the other reason?”
“It employs nine hundred people.”
“And?”
“Many fear closure.”
Elara stared.
“You want me involved.”
“Only if you want.”
“In what capacity?”
“Advisory.”
She immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Vadim nodded.
“All right.”
That easy acceptance irritated her.
“Why aren’t you arguing?”
“You said no.”
“Yes, but I prepared reasons.”
“You can give them if you enjoy the experience.”
She threw a pillow at him.
He caught it.
“Elara.”
“I don’t want another empire.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want my mother’s money to turn me into Dad.”
“I know.”
“I want books.”
“I know.”
“I want work that belongs to me.”
“I know.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re being unbearable.”
“I know.”
A week later, Elara changed her mind.
Not about becoming an executive.
About helping the employees.
She proposed an independent worker council and profit-sharing program if Vadim acquired the division.
Vadim reviewed the proposal.
“This is expensive.”
“You can afford it.”
“That is not how business works.”
“It could be.”
He stared.
She smiled.
“Negotiate with me.”
He did.
Three hours later they reached terms.
Mikhail watched from the corner.
“You two are terrifying.”
Elara looked pleased.
Vadim looked proud.
The acquisition went forward months later.
Elara never joined management.
Instead she created a small foundation using part of her inheritance to support education for employees and their families.
She named it the Evelyn Initiative.
When the first scholarship letters were sent, Elara cried.
Her mother’s money was finally doing what Evelyn intended.
Giving somebody choices.
The wedding approached.
One week before the ceremony, Elara received an envelope from Taras.
No demands.
No legal documents.
Just a handwritten letter.
Elara,
I won’t ask you to invite me.
I spent too many years believing being a father meant deciding what was best for my daughters.
I understand now that love without respect becomes another form of control.
I hope one day you remember something good about me. If you cannot, that is something I earned.
Your mother would be proud.
I know I have no right to speak for her.
So I will say only this.
I am proud of you.
Dad.
Elara read it twice.
Then placed it inside her mother’s jewelry box.
Vadim found her crying.
He sat beside her.
“Bad?”
“No.”
“Good?”
“I don’t know.”
“Those are often worse.”
She handed him the letter.
He read silently.
“What do you think?”
Vadim returned it.
“I think apology is useful only when it does not demand reward.”
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
Elara rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m still not inviting him.”
“You don’t need my permission.”
“I know.”
That was perhaps the greatest change of all.
She knew.
The night before the wedding, Elara stood alone in front of the mirror.
Her dress was different from the first.
Soft ivory.
Simple lines.
Lace only at the sleeves.
Nothing chosen to hide her.
Nothing designed to make her appear smaller.
Celine entered.
“You look beautiful.”
Elara smiled.
“So do you.”
Natalia followed.
Then Svetlana.
Soon the room became loud.
Perfume.
Hairpins.
Arguments.
Laughter.
Elara caught her reflection.
Once, she would have looked first at her stomach.
Her arms.
Her face.
Every place Taras taught her to criticize.
Now she saw herself.
Entirely.
Not perfect.
Not transformed into somebody else.
Simply hers.
Tomorrow she would walk toward Vadim.
But tonight she understood something even more important.
May you like
She had already arrived at herself.
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