*Mia's P.O.V*

I was not sure how to react to Anton's betrayal. A mix of emotions overwhelmed me, especially since he cheated on my bestie with Pamela's mother?!

There is no way he cooked up that tactic on his own, as Reindorf concurs.

"Your family could have required him to do so," says Reindorf in a blasé tone, "either way, we can't trust him."

This realisation stings my head more than expected. I reel back in anguish
Anton is like a big brother to me. He is the only one who understands what it's like to have 'evil blood' running through one's veins. How can he do this?

"So what do we do?" I sound defeated.

"We get married."

I don't sound like anything. My jaw drops. My brain lags for a couple of seconds.

"I know. I know." He shifts, vividly finding my bewilderment awkward. "But with my connections and resources, and the evidence from the boxes, we have -"

"Boxes?"

"Your boxes. I went for them, and as it turns, there's a lot of -" He pauses. "How did you get them?"

"It's a long story," I reply dismissively. A part of me is still processing the marriage proposal, while the other isn't thrilled that he looked into the boxes without my foreknowledge. Even I don't understand what is in there -

"Mia?"

"Huh?" I snap back to earth. A hesitant pat precedes his vague apology, after which he guides us back to the marriage lane.

When I agree, it's on the condition of optimum transparency and confidentiality.

*

Giving Charlie the news turned out pretty difficult. He looked like he was on the verge of fainting. Perhaps he was frightened by the word 'marriage' - it carries venom no one would want unless they are certain.

Am I certain? Is this a good idea?

*

I am with Cynthia in what used to be her sanctuary - her marital home. She takes the news far better than Charlie, even joking about Anton's bewilderment should he find out.

"He will know tomorrow." I purse my lips.

Everyone will.

*

Everyone does.

Cynthia and I are at a mall when suddenly, a whole orchestra halts us. Reindorf emerges with a ring in hand. Stunned that he's doing it so publicly, I almost hesitate to say yes.

People are watching and taking videos. I won't hear the end of this back in college, but for now, I concentrate on my 'fiancé'. I hug him, and gasps erupt. A few whispers of 'Isn't he old for her?' can also be heard - as if they wouldn't hate on me if I rejected him.

Afterwards, we drive to the Yeltsin mansion to express our interest in the CEO position. Granny Pompom acts elated, explaining the requirements giddily. I am not business-inclined academically, so as she talks about a proposal presentation due next week, I squint.

"It's just a little something to prove to our board that nominations from our family are qualified. It's just Anton, but I will add your name. Don't worry, your husband must be versed in this type of stuff since -" She smiles at him. "You are an entrepreneur, right?"

Reindorf nods. I reckon she's aware they are after the same land. For twenty minutes, she feigns intrigue in his business, making us leave late.

Driving back to his house in Russia, Reindorf narrates his schedule for us, whereas I text the officer who got me the boxes. No time is wasted in crosschecking their content. There are about eight guns - two that are Colt revolvers have blood splatters like knives - and a Polaroid camera with photos of kids being abused and brutally murdered. Most of what's left are random objects like spanners and Rolex watches, as well as pictures of wealthy-looking men, some of which I recognise from Yeltsin parties. Then, there are the huge files of witness statements, forensic reports, and reports on criminals.

It's a lot.

Overwhelmed with horror, I note down important information from the officer. He says none of the evidence particularly incriminates the Yeltsins - just four board members in the family company and Joe.

"What do you have in mind?" Reindorf appears beside me.

"We should have them arrested. Duh."

"At the moment, that won't be possible," he states, "but we can make them think it can."

"What do you mean we can't? So, like, threaten them?"

"Ah -" He grins. "Already learning to read my mind."

I grimace.

He sighs. "Of course, we'll make them pay. For now, they are our stepping stones to the throne."

"Na." I get up.

Reindorf does the same, causing me to look up like a child.

"Mia, you may not want to do certain things, but if Anton wants to play dirty, shove him in the bin."

*

The next day, he sets out without me to handle matters of the land auction. I'm grateful for the quietness to process everything until Sheila shows up. Despite being his female partner of decades, she doesn't know about the marriage pact. When I tell her it is fake, she's beyond relieved.

"That would have been weird," she says with a twinkle of jealousy. I smile, and she steps in, heading straight to the back of the house, where a shooting range is far off. Her neck twists as if she needed at an impressively painful angle to see me. I know she's expecting me to follow, as ever since the hut incident, she took it upon herself to teach me how to shoot. After fetching water bottles, another surprise guest arrives.

Charlie.

Maybe I should be mad at him. I act like it, introducing him to Sheila and leaving them to talk. Unfortunately, Sheila remembers her goal of disturbing me, and Charlie's yesmanship makes him her favourite student. Soon, we are competing to hit Bullseye first, after which she awards us a break.

Back inside, I tell him about the presentation. The proposal concerns the telecommunications project Desi's parents initiated before their demise, so we make appointments with their advisors and committee heads. In Reindorf's absence, Charlie stays over. Sheila, too. Darkness turns to day as I try to be a businesswoman overnight. It's an effortless slope to frustration. I hope it's worth it.

"Mia, I have to go to work. Anton said I should invite you for dinner. Meet in the evening, ya?"

"Sure. Not for that prick, though."

"Language" is his parting noun.

*

I'm a drive away from dinner at Anton's. My arrival pours him shots of feigned hellos and congratulations. Cynthia sets the table with Charlie, but I must answer for so much.

"How are we getting married? Love at first sight. All thanks to you."

"Mm. Reindorf said the same thing. Right, Charlie?!"

"Ugh?!"

I implore before my cousin speaks, "You spoke to Reindorf?"

"I run into him at a board member's house."

My grin drops. I sip water to mask the switch in my expression; however, I am delayed by Charlie's side-eye.

"You're gonna try for the position?"

My affirmation does all but faze Anton. Showing interest in my future, he reckons bearing such a title still in college will be exhausting. Not that I haven't thought this through, but my replies echo a concerning level of dependence on 'ifs'. My world order is fractured, and he is chuckling that I shouldn't worry; things will work out on their own.

Jerk.

After dinner, Anton pops champagne to celebrate the marriage. We drink and chatter like we are cool with him. My brain buzzes a bit, but since the bottle says it's non-alcoholic, I assume this is a headache from the day in general.

Around 10 p.m., Anton departs from us to buy batteries for the clock. Cynthia goes to bed complaining of her head.

Charlie and I keep up the banter until he says, "Mia, Pamela's dad is gone."

"I heard it was suicide."

He pinches his nose to that. "No. That's nonsense... No. No."

"Ok, Charlie."

"Although... What if the sea vomits him back? Why hold a funeral without his dead body? To have at his wealth?" He laughs bitterly. "I don't even want the farm, the property; I don't want any of it. "

Confused, I bring him to the couch. He slows his speech, narrating Mr. Palviokinsky's will reading. The man gave Charlie his farm, family home, and half ownership of his business, much to Charlie's irritation. Unsurprisingly, Charlie doesn't care about his wealth, but the cracks in his voice tell me he feels somewhat guilty. I hug him, and he freezes, eyes on the clock.

"Hey," I utter.

He shakes his head till mine presses against it. I feel his forehead relax as he swallows air.

I wince because, out of the blue, the motion of his Adam's apple slaps a frisson all over my body.

Mia, what the fuck? I gulp it down, tightening my jaw.

When he moves back, it's to check the time. I observe the tiniest detail of his gaze upon the minute hand - the way twitch of a vein, the dilation of his earthlike pupils, a tear struggling for freedom at the corner.

"Mia," he looks at me suddenly, his fingers trembling to touch my cheek. "Mia, I -"

*

^

On a rainy dawn, Reindorf apologises for taking action behind my back.

"Look. Listen, Mia. Some things have to be done. You can't be this stubborn if you want to save those abused kids. To save Charlie."

"Not with blackmail..."

Reindorf's actions can end or un-end me, depending on how my presentation goes. Why? Like Anton, I will present my draft of the proposal to all the board members, including the ones he threatened.

They would have thought of me as harmless had it not been for this, and men like women in power only if they're harmless. Gullible. The afternoon reminds me of this when I step inside the company's walls to find that Granny Pompom is despised.

She is in a private, heavily guarded room on the top floor, surrounded by those men. One named Mr. Cavill questions why she does not leave that seat for her husband, to which she replies, "You know, my love once said he could slit his mother's wrist for me. Funny, right?"

"... Yes, Mr. Yeltsin has a good sense of humour."

"Yet, you are not laughing," Granny Pom notes.

Mr. Cavill cackles. We hear him as security confiscates our gadgets and does body searches.

Your love killed and almost killed your daughter and granddaughter.

I doubt she even knows. Snarking at the thought, I let Anton take the lead into the room. We sit and listen to Granny Pompom's introduction for us. As meagre as our accomplishments are, we are awarded applause and rapt attention. I go first.

I don't know what I am saying. Words and figures mingle, hoodwinking, as Charlie terms it.

Concluding, I glance at my slides, only to be frozen.

On display is me arched-backed on Anton's kitchen counter while a head moves beneath my dress.

I can't turn back.

No. No. I can.

You can, Mia.

I turn back to my audience. Smile. "Well, unlike me, this project won't be as pleasurable at the start of our journey. We would have to reconsider our capital budgeting and sweep out those hiding behind big figures to siphon funds. Don't worry, Mr. Cavill. I'm not talking about you."

"Ha, she has your humour." He chuckles uneasily to Granny Pompom.

"Also, we don't need to wait nine months to generate profit."

"By which time I should be expecting the prettiest great grand baby on Earth?" Grandma asks.

My brows cock. "While I am CEO?"

"If I did it, you can." She claps. "Bravo, my dear."

More applause proceeds. The board seems not at all disturbed. Some are aroused at most.

"What the fuck?!" Anton gasps. All eyes move, not him, but to the slides again.

This time, he is shown in bed with Pamela's mother. It doesn't even process in my head when Anton thrusts his chair onto the projector, cracking it. The video vanishes, though imprinted in our memories.

"The ..fuck!" Anton storms out. Silence ensues until someone mutters in Russian, "Как по-детски. Это дорогого стоит." {How uncouth. That cost a lot.}

*

^

"I'm going to destroy whoever did this!" Anton barks, running into his car.

I yelp, "Yes, we will. B-but your presentation -"

He speeds off. Being the only one to go after him, I must catch my breath first. I take a taxi to Charlie's inherited mansion, where I tell him what happened.

"You were right," I start. What was he right about?

On that fateful moment on the couch, Charlie trembled and touched my cheek, so it would look like he was caressing me while he whispered, "There's a camera in the clock."

Stunned, I surmised that Anton was culpable. Perhaps he sought after an inappropriate tape, so he spiked the champagne and planted the camera. After no time to ponder, I asked Charlie to kiss me. His feet sprang to life, relocating him to the kitchen for a glass of water. The water splashed out and down his detectable chin as he nervously drank it.

So I licked it. My tongue trailed the snake water, grazing his bottom lip along the speedy way. A pause erupted afterwards. He stepped closer. Closer. My heart pounded. I felt dizzy. My brain was bluescreened, so I cannot say when he lifted me onto the counter, but I heard him ask if I was okay while he opened my legs.

Alas, Charlie did nothing but sway his head and shut his eyes, flushed from my so-called orgasm.

The morning of the next day, we got Anton's laptop and scraped the majority of 'our sex footage' to merge it with the one Charlie had. Charlie did not like doing this, but I was more angry than ashamed. We didn't get rid of our footage entirely in case he could crosscheck it for some seconds - his attention span was too small to watch the footage for more than two minutes, much to our advantage.

"What we did was wrong, Mia." Charlie snaps me back from my flashback.

I glower. "What he did was wrong. I even thought he was going to blackmail me privately. Not show it in front of those monsters!! He did this!"

"I know." Charlie's eyes soften.

I look away. Another pause.

The more Charlie stays quiet, the more pissed I feel. He has the look of guilt again. An hour doesn't lapse before I leave.

*