White Nights Ablaze in Saint Petersburg: The Dance of Betrayal by a Swan Maiden and the Gunshot That Ended a Mad Charade in an Abandoned Theater

Part 3: The Gathering of Shadows

The phone continued to vibrate against the leather console, the name Viktor Volkov flashing like a warning light on a sinking ship. Mikhail glanced at it, his expression hardening. In this city, everyone knew Viktor. He was a relic of the chaotic nineties—a man who had traded his government uniform for an empire built on extortion and backroom deals. He was also the man who had practically gifted me his daughter, expecting me to be his personal piggy bank for the rest of his life.

I picked up the phone and slid the screen. “Viktor. It’s late for an old man to be awake.”

“Dimitri,” his voice boomed, thick with the gravel of heavy smoking and unearned authority. “I just received a very hysterical phone call from my daughter. She is walking along the highway in the middle of the night. What is the meaning of this insult to my family?”

“The meaning is simple, Viktor,” I said, my voice smooth and unbothered as the SUV glided through the empty streets. “Your daughter is a thief and an adulteress. She and her director friend tried to plan my disappearance to fund a new life in Miami. I simply canceled the performance.”

A heavy silence hung on the line. I could hear Viktor exhaling a long breath of smoke. When he spoke again, the faux-jovial tone was gone. It was pure venom. “Listen to me, boy. You built a nice little business, yes. But you forget who allowed you to build it. You pull these legal tricks, you freeze those accounts, and I will ensure your warehouses burn to the ground by tomorrow evening. My daughter gets her share, or you lose everything. Do you understand me?”

“When someone threatens me, Viktor, I usually look at what they have left to lose,” I replied, leaning forward, my eyes narrowing. “You haven’t been in office for three years. Your friends in the ministry are either retired or in prison. I, on the other hand, pay my taxes, pay my security, and have the private ledger of your offshore shipping logistics sitting on my desk. If a single match is struck near my property, that ledger goes straight to the Federal Security Service.”

The line went dead. He had hung up. I tossed the phone back onto the console.

“Mikhail,” I said quietly. “Double the guard at the main terminal. Tell the boys to be ready for anything, but do not initiate. Let them make the first mistake.”

“Understood, sir,” Mikhail nodded, a grim smile touching his lips.

The next afternoon, the drama escalated exactly as I predicted, but from a different angle. I was sitting in my glass-walled office overlooking the harbor when my secretary buzzed me. Katarina was in the lobby, accompanied by her mother, Elena, and a trio of high-priced lawyers. They hadn’t come to fight; they had come to manipulate.

“Let them in,” I said.

The door flew open, and Katarina marched in, looking dramatically pale, wearing a modest black dress that practically screamed wronged widow. Elena followed her like a protective matriarchal vulture.

“Dimitri!” Elena barked before the door could even close. “How dare you humiliate my daughter like this? Shifting her things out of the house like she is a common criminal! She is a delicate artist! She was confused, under immense pressure from that terrible director!”

I didn’t stand up. I didn’t raise my voice. I just sat behind my massive mahogany desk, looking at them with detached curiosity. “Elena, your daughter didn’t look confused when she was asking for my safe combination under the moonlight. She looked highly motivated.”

Katarina dropped to her knees right in front of my desk, tears welling up perfectly in her beautiful eyes. It was a masterful performance. “Dimitri, please, look at me! Five years! Did those five years mean nothing to you? Yes, I made a mistake. Nikolai manipulated me, he told me you were going to leave me for someone younger! I was insecure! I only said those things because I was terrified of losing you!”

She reached out to grab my hand, but I smoothly pulled my chair back, out of her reach. I looked down at her, feeling absolutely nothing but a faint sense of second-hand embarrassment for her desperation.

“Katarina,” I said, my voice cutting through her sobbing. “You are a magnificent dancer, but your acting is subpar. You don’t love me. You love the lifestyle I provided. You love the Mariinsky principal spot that my sponsorships bought for you. The moment you realized the well was dry, you showed your true colors.”

The lead lawyer stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Mr. Ivanov, regardless of the emotional circumstances, a Russian court will look at the asset distribution. My client is entitled to—”

“Your client is entitled to a swift criminal trial if she doesn’t sign the uncontested divorce papers on that table,” I interrupted, pointing to a neat stack of documents prepared by my own legal team. “I have the recordings from last night. I have the digital trail of her transferring corporate funds to Nikolai’s production shell company. That is embezzlement. That is a ten-year sentence in a penal colony, not a penthouse in New York.”

Katarina’s face shifted instantly. The tears dried up, replaced by a cold, sharp glare. The victim persona vanished, revealing the ugly, calculating creature underneath. She stood up, dusting off her knees, her voice dropping an octave.

“You think you’ve won, Dimitri?” she hissed, leaning over my desk. “My father will never let you walk away with everything. You think your little business can survive what he is going to do to you?”

Right at that exact moment, my office phone rang. I pressed the speakerphone button. It was my head of security, Mikhail.

“Sir,” Mikhail’s voice echoed clearly through the room. “Two of Viktor Volkov’s associates just tried to enter the southern warehouse with incendiary devices. We caught them on camera. They are currently detained, and the local police captain—the one who isn’t on Volkov’s payroll—is on his way to collect them. Along with the ledger you instructed me to send.”

Katarina froze. Elena gasping loudly, clutching her pearls. The lawyers immediately stepped back, realizing they were no longer dealing with a simple civil divorce, but a collapsing criminal enterprise.

I looked at my wife one last time, a calm, victorious smile spreading across my face. “It seems your father just played his last card, Katarina. And he lost.”