LEV'S POV
The tense feeling from the long meeting about the rumors was still with me. For almost two hours, we talked about the bad news going around. Everyone who was important at RusTech was there, even my father, looking very worried. We talked about what the rumors said and who might be starting them, but we didn't find any real answers.
"We need to do something now, not just react to what happens," I said. "If we don't deal with these stories quickly, people will start to believe them."
Ms. Petrova, who talks to the people who invest in our company, said, "Sir, the people who own our stock are calling. They sound... unsure about things."
Mr. Chen, our lawyer, said, "it was hard to fight the rumors because we don't know who is saying these things, Mr. Petrov, it's hard to take legal action. We're fighting against something we can't see."
Even my father, who usually doesn't get involved in the daily work, was there and looked serious. "We can't look weak, Lev," he said firmly. "We need to answer quickly and show we are strong."
With a collective sigh of frustrated agreement, the meeting officially dissolved. The executives dispersed, their faces reflecting the gravity of the situation.
Father turned to me, a rare hint of worry in his eyes. "Come, Lev. Let's discuss this further in your office."
The walk to my cabin was silent, the muted sounds of the workday a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within me. The weight of responsibility felt heavier with each step.
I pushed my office door and stepped inside, Father following close behind, the thread of our serious conversation still unbroken. And then we both stopped short.
"Anton? What a surprise!" The exclamation escaped me, genuine shock coloring my tone. There he was, my friend, lounging on my couch as if it were his own living room, a wide, easy smile spreading across his face.
"Lev!" Anton exclaimed, leaping to his feet and engulfing me in a familiar, firm hug. He clapped me on the back with an almost too-hearty enthusiasm.
"Uncle Dimitri!" Anton then turned to Father, embracing him with equal warmth. "It's wonderful to see you, Sir! You're looking remarkably well."
A small, genuine smile touched Father's lips. "Anton. Good to see you back in New York. We weren't expecting you so soon."
I gestured towards the couch, my mind still trying to process this unexpected arrival. "Yeah, when did you get back to the city, Anton? I thought you were still enjoying the California sunshine."
Anton settled back onto the couch, crossing his legs with a casual air. "Just this morning, Lev. Couldn't stay away from the energy of the city for too long, you know how it is."
A light chuckle escaped him, Anton's smile softened, a genuine-looking furrow appearing on his brow. "So," he began, leaning forward slightly, his gaze shifting between us, "you both seem... understandably tense. Is everything alright?"
I let out a weary sigh, the tension I'd been carrying finally finding a voice. "Actually, Anton, no. Things are far from alright. We've been hit with some pretty damaging rumors circulating about RusTech's early funding. It's... it's a serious situation."
Father's expression hardened. "Someone is deliberately trying to undermine the integrity of this company, Anton. To cast doubt on the very foundations upon which I established it."
Anton's eyebrows shot up, his concern appearing sincere. "Rumors about the early days? That's... that's significant. What exactly are they alleging?" He leaned in further, his attention fully focused on me. "Tell me everything, Lev. What's going on?"
"It's a load of garbage, Anton, that's what it is," I began, my voice tight with frustration.
"Anonymous articles online, whispers on social media... they're claiming our initial funding, years ago, came from some shady sources. Unethical practices, illegal dealings - complete fabrication." I ran a hand through my hair, the stress of the past few days catching up to me.
"It's like someone's trying to rewrite history, to poison the well at its source."
Father nodded, his expression grim. "The timing is suspicious, Anton. Just as we're on the verge of some major expansions, this filth starts circulating."
Anton's brow furrowed deeper, his gaze shifting between us with what seemed like genuine concern. "That's... that's a serious accusation. Have you got any idea who's behind it, Lev?"
I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "If I knew that, Anton, believe me, they'd be regretting it. Sergei's cyber team is trying to trace the source, but it's like chasing ghosts. They're covering their tracks well."
"And the impact?" Anton pressed, his eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of something unreadable flickering within them. "How is this affecting things?"
"It's causing uncertainty," Father interjected, his voice firm. "Investors are nervous, the media is circling like vultures. It's damaging our reputation, potentially jeopardizing our future projects."
Anton leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his gaze now intensely focused on me. "Look, Lev, you know I'd do anything for you, for your family. If there's anything I can do to help... any connections I have, anything at all... just say the word."
I managed a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Anton. That means a lot. Right now, we just need to figure out who is pulling the strings."
"Have you considered... someone with old grudges?" Anton suggested, his tone thoughtful. "Someone who might have felt wronged by the family in the past?" He glanced briefly at Father before returning his gaze to me.
Father's eyes narrowed slightly at Anton's question, a flicker of something akin to suspicion crossing his face before it smoothed over. "There have been... disagreements over the years, Anton. As in any business. But nothing that would warrant this level of maliciousness, I would hope."
"Maybe someone trying to destabilize RusTech for their own gain?" Anton continued, his gaze still fixed on me, his expression earnest. "A competitor looking to take you down a peg?"
"That's a possibility we're exploring," I confirmed, the weight of potential enemies heavy in the air. "But it feels... personal somehow. The focus on something so far in the past."
"Well," Anton said, pushing himself to his feet, his smile returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Count me in, Lev. Whatever you need. Let's grab some dinner later, talk this through properly, away from the office noise. My treat."
"Yeah, Anton, that sounds good. Let me just clear a few things."
As Anton clapped me on the shoulder, his touch felt familiar, comforting even amidst the swirling chaos.
The midday sun glinted off the sleek black car as Anton drove us to "The Gilded Spoon," a discreet restaurant known for its clientele of the city's elite.
Inside, the ambiance was hushed and refined, a world away from the frantic energy of the RusTech offices. We were seated at a quiet corner table, the crisp white linen and gleaming silverware a stark contrast to the turmoil in my mind.
We ordered, the polite inquiries from the waiter feeling almost intrusive.
Anton, ever the social butterfly, steered the conversation towards lighter topics - old college anecdotes, a recent art exhibition he'd seen, anything to try and pull me out of the dark cloud of the rumors. He was being a good friend, the kind of friend I desperately needed right now.
Just as Anton was about to launch into a story about a disastrous attempt to cook a gourmet meal during his time in California, his phone buzzed. "Excuse me a moment, Lev," he said, a professional tone taking over as he answered the call and stepped a few feet away.
I pulled out my own phone, idly scrolling through news headlines - more speculation about RusTech, nothing concrete. Then, I heard it. "Evva," a voice nearby said, the name instantly snagging my attention. It was a familiar cadence, a melody I hadn't realized was still playing somewhere in the back of my mind.
My head snapped up, my gaze drawn across the room. And there she was. Evva. She was standing near the entrance, laughing, her head tilted back, her eyes sparkling. My breath hitched for a moment. But then I saw a man standing close beside her, his hand lightly touching her arm as they spoke.
A strange mix of emotions churned within me. Curiosity, definitely. Who was this guy? Boyfriend? Brother? Just a friend? A sudden, unwelcome frown creased my brow. Why did I even care? It was her life, her choices. I forced my attention back to my phone, trying to quell the unexpected pang of... something.
"Sir, your order," the waiter's voice broke through my thoughts, the plates of exquisitely prepared food arriving at our table. I nodded absently, my gaze flicking back to Evva just as she and the man were being led to a table on the other side of the restaurant, thankfully not in our immediate vicinity. She was still smiling, a carefree expression that tugged at something within me.
Anton returned, his phone back in his pocket. "Sorry about that, work thing. Ah, the food's here! You didn't start without me, did you? Were you perhaps thinking of devouring it all yourself?" he said with a playful jab, his usual easygoing demeanor back in place.
"Tempting, I won't lie," I replied, managing a wry smile.
We began to eat, the conversation flowing again, though I found myself subtly glancing across the room, trying to catch glimpses of Evva. Her back was mostly to our table, and she seemed engrossed in conversation with the man. Anton, oblivious to my divided attention, was happily tucking into his meal.
Then, a sudden commotion. A waitress carrying a tray of drinks near our table stumbled, and a dark liquid arced through the air, landing squarely on my chest. A gasp escaped the waitress, her face paling with panic. "Oh, Sir! I am so sorry!"
"It's alright, don't worry," I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt, the sticky drink soaking through my shirt. "Just an accident." I stood up. "Excuse me, Anton. I'll just head to the washroom to clean this up."
I made my way towards the restrooms, a trail of dark droplets marking my path. After a few minutes spent trying to salvage my shirt, I emerged, feeling slightly damp but considerably less sticky. Turning a corner, I wasn't looking where I was going, my mind still replaying the image of Evva's laughter. And then it happened. I walked straight into someone.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" a familiar voice exclaimed, and as I steadied the person I'd bumped into, my eyes met hers. It was Evva.
Evva's surprise was clear in her widened eyes. A soft gasp escaped her lips. "Oh! Mr. Petrov," she exclaimed, a flicker of recognition, then perhaps a touch of polite surprise, crossing her features as she took a step back. Her gaze flickered from my damp shirt to my face, a silent question in her hazel eyes. "Hi," she added, her tone pleasant. "Were you here for lunch as well?"
I, still slightly disoriented from the unexpected collision and the earlier turmoil of seeing her with another man, tried to compose myself. I straightened my shoulders, attempting to appear more collected than I felt. "Yes, Evva," I replied, my voice a touch rougher than intended. "I was... uh... having lunch."
Evva's gaze softened slightly. "Oh, I see." She paused for a brief moment, then her eyes flickered towards the direction I had come from. "Did someone accompany you?"
"Yes," I replied to Evva's question, my gaze flicking back towards the direction of our table. "I'm here with a friend."
Just then, the man, who had been standing slightly behind Evva, stepped forward, his arm gently finding the small of her back again. "Evva? Everything alright?" He looked from her to me, a polite but questioning expression on his face. There was a subtle protectiveness in his stance.
Evva turned slightly towards him. "Yes, Jackson. Everything's fine. This is Mr. Petrov. We... met briefly before."
Jackson extended a hand towards me, his grip firm and his gaze direct. "Jackson Hayes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Petrov."
I shook his hand, offering a curt nod. "Lev Petrov."
Evva's gaze then drifted down to my damp shirt, her eyebrowsArching slightly in concern. "Oh, Mr. Petrov," she said, a note of genuine inquiry in her voice. "What happened? Your shirt..."
"Ah, just a minor casualty of a rather enthusiastic waitress and a rogue glass of... red something," I explained, attempting a lighthearted tone despite the lingering unease. I gestured vaguely towards the direction of the earlier commotion. "Nothing to worry about." I offered a small, somewhat strained smile.
Just as a slightly awkward silence settled after my explanation about the spilled drink, my phone buzzed insistently in my pocket. I glanced at the caller ID - Sergei. This couldn't wait.
"Excuse me for one moment, Evva," I said, pulling out my phone. "It's the office." I stepped slightly away, trying to keep my voice low as I answered. "Sergei, what is it?"
The conversation was brief but urgent, something about a potential lead they had just uncovered. I listened intently, my brow furrowing with a mixture of frustration and a flicker of hope. After a concise exchange, I ended the call and turned back to Evva and Jackson, who had been standing patiently, exchanging quiet glances.
"Sorry about that," I said, rejoining them. "Duty calls, even during lunch." I offered a small, apologetic smile.
Evva nodded understandingly. "Of course." She hesitated for a moment, her expression softening slightly, a hint of something beyond polite acquaintance in her eyes. "Mr. Petrov," she began, her voice a little more serious now, "I... I did hear about the rumors circulating about RusTech." She paused, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I just wanted to say... that it sounds incredibly unfair. To have something like that dredged up from the past." Her gaze was direct, and there was a sincerity in her tone that surprised me.
A wave of unexpected gratitude washed over me. Amidst the swirling accusations and the guarded reactions I'd encountered, Evva's straightforward sincerity was a welcome surprise.
"Thank you, Evva," I said, the sincerity in my own voice genuine. "It's... frustrating, to say the least. We're working to uncover the truth, but it feels like fighting shadows." My gaze met hers, and for a fleeting moment, the presence of Jackson beside her faded into the background.
"Have you found any clues at all, Mr. Petrov?" Evva asked, her brow furrowed with concern as she looked at me. As she spoke, she subtly gestured with her hand towards the direction of my table, and we both began to move slowly in that direction, Jackson following a step behind.
I sighed, the frustration evident in my voice. "Nothing concrete yet, Evva. Just dead ends and anonymous trails. It's like whoever is doing this vanished into thin air."
"Well," Evva said, her steps faltering slightly as we neared my table, where Anton was still waiting, looking slightly curious. "There is a friend of mine... Theo. He's a professional cybersecurity expert. He actually works with the police on cybercrime cases sometimes. He might... maybe be able to help you with this." Her gaze was direct, and there was a genuine offer in her voice.
My surprise must have been evident. I hadn't expected such a direct and potentially helpful offer, especially from someone I'd only encountered twice in rather unusual circumstances.
"A cybersecurity expert who works with the police?" I repeated, a flicker of genuine hope igniting within me. "Evva, that... that would be incredible. Are you serious?" I looked from her to Jackson, then back to her, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation swirling within me. "Someone like that could actually trace the source of these attacks?"
"Yes, I'm serious, Mr. Petrov," Evva replied, her expression earnest. "Theo is very good at what he does. If anyone can untangle the digital threads of these rumors, it would likely be him. He's helped with some pretty complex cases." She gave a small, reassuring nod. "I can reach out to him, explain the situation, and see if he's available and willing to take a look."
"We can stop here," she said, gesturing slightly to indicate we had reached the vicinity of her table and from the other side where Anton was now looking at us with a curious expression.I turned my full attention back to Evva.
"Evva, I... I don't even know how to thank you. This could be a real breakthrough. Please, if your friend is willing, I would be incredibly grateful for any assistance he could provide." My gaze was earnest, conveying the depth of my desperation and the hope her suggestion had sparked.
"It's no problem at all, Mr. Petrov," Evva said, a small, genuine smile gracing her lips. "I'm happy to help if Theo can. Let me reach out to him first to explain everything and see if it's something he can take on. If he's able to, I'll need a way to get in touch with you directly. Could I have your phone number?"
"Of course," I said, quickly reaching for my phone. I recited my number clearly. Please, let me know what Theo says. And thank you again, Evva. This means more than you know." I met her gaze, a sincere gratitude evident in my expression.
Evva reached for her handbag, which had been resting on the back of a nearby chair. I hadn't really registered her attire amidst the earlier chaos and my own preoccupation, but as she stood there, ready to leave, I took a moment to truly notice her. The simple, elegant lines of her formal pant and shirt suited her perfectly, highlighting a quiet confidence. She looked... beautiful.
"Well," Evva said, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, a polite but clear indication that she was about to depart.
"Oh, are you leaving already?" I asked, perhaps a touch too quickly, a sliver of disappointment threading through my voice.
She smiled faintly. "Yes, Jackson and I were just finishing up." She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"And Evva," I said, making a point to use her first name this time, "please, don't call me Mr. Petrov. It's Lev."
A warm smile touched Evva's lips, softening her features. "Alright, Lev," she said, the way she said my name feeling surprisingly natural. "I'll be in touch once I've spoken with Theo." She gave a brief, polite nod to me and then turned to Jackson, a subtle gesture indicating it was time for them to leave.
Just as Evva turned to fully face Jackson, a question I hadn't realized was hovering just beneath the surface finally escaped my lips, a raw and perhaps ill-advised inquiry. "Evva," I blurted out, the words coming out a little more abruptly than intended, "is Jackson... your boyfriend?" The question hung in the air, the casual restaurant hum seeming to fade into the background as I waited for her answer.
A flicker of surprise crossed Evva's face, quickly followed by a polite but somewhat reserved smile. She glanced at Jackson, then back at me. "Jackson is my secretary, Lev," she clarified, her tone matter-of-fact, leaving little room for further speculation. "Bye, Lev," Evva said with a final, small smile as she and Jackson continued towards the exit and disappeared into the afternoon light.
A wave of heat rushed to my face. Idiot. The word echoed in my mind. Of course, her secretary. Why would I even ask such a presumptuous question? The relief at knowing Jackson wasn't a romantic interest was quickly overshadowed by a sharp pang of embarrassment. I watched them disappear, the image of Evva's polite but firm clarification replaying in my head. I suddenly felt foolish and intrusive. I turned back to Anton, who was watching the whole exchange with a curious, slightly amused expression. I had a feeling I'd be hearing about this later.
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