After dinner, Aaron joined his father in his office. He knocked on the door, and his father, who was on the phone, waved him in.
He entered and sat in the leather chair in front of his father. With some nervousness, Aaron squirmed in his seat, annoying his father who eventually stood up and walked over to a window, cigarette in hand.
At the end of the call, Mr. Smirnov tapped his phone in his palm while walking back to his desk. Once seated, he asked his son what he wanted.
"Father... I have something important to tell you," Aaron said, looking tense. His father noticed and watched him closely, hands on his elbows, leaning towards him.
"Father, I have..."
"Do you have a medical degree?" his father interjected, laughing. "I knew it, son, just like I know you have a master's in Management."
"How...?"
"How do I know? I know everything about you. About you. Your sisters and your mother. Even what you eat."
"I'm sorry, father. I didn't mean to lie to you. I..."
Mr. Smirnov had no patience. He never let his son finish his sentence.
"The damage is already done," he chuckled. "But I am proud of you. Proud that you had the courage to tell me. Now, go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow."
"Thank you, father. Good night to you," Aaron replied, his father nodding in acknowledgment.
Aaron's mother stood outside the office, listening at the door to the conversation between her son and her husband. When Aaron came out and saw her, he immediately realized her presence and what she was doing or had done, just like his father.
A sly smile spread across her husband's face as he quipped, "Did the journalist take good notes?" This remark made Elena, Aaron's mother, blush.
"Walk me back to my room," she asked her son, and they both left, leaving Mr. Smirnov alone in his office.
As they reached the door of his mother's room, Aaron let her in and then returned to his own room to go to bed. He lay on his large bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating the vastness of the room. He sighed, closing his eyes in the hope of finding sleep, tormented by the worry of what might happen the next day.
The Smirnov mansion stood majestically in the middle of a forest owned by the family, sprawling over an area almost as large as a city.
Upon waking up, Aaron put on a black jogging suit and a stained white t-shirt before heading out for a morning jog through the forest. Despite the cold, the exertion of the run pleasantly warmed him up. After about thirty minutes, he realized he had strayed far from the house and decided to turn back.
On his return, Aaron saw four armored cars parked outside his home, with about a dozen men standing guard. He quickly surmised that one of his father's henchmen or associates was at the house.
Greeting the men as he arrived, he made his way inside the mansion. His father's men seemed to be in greater numbers, particularly in front of his office located on the ground floor.
Stopping his sister Mira in the hallway near their mother's room, Aaron asked for an explanation of the situation.
"What's going on?" he inquired.
"I'm not sure, but I recognize the man talking to Dad," replied Mira.
"Who is it?" Aaron asked.
"Do you remember Mynerise, the young girl who lost her life saving us from a kidnapping?" she continued.
"Oh yes, I remember her," he confirmed.
"Well, that's her father. And her son, Alexei," revealed Mira.
"Alexei? The little rascal who used to tease us when we were kids?" exclaimed Aaron.
"Yes, that's him. And guess what, he's my boyfriend and future husband," Mira announced.
Aaron felt his blood run cold. He struggled to believe what he was hearing. His sister with Alexeï Dostoïevski. That skinny, bloodthirsty and cruel man.
"Do you at least love him? Or is it father who forced you?" Aaron asked, furious.
"No," his sister replied, trying to calm him down. "It's me. I love Alex. We love each other. We even fear that father may not allow our relationship."
Aaron remained silent, trying to process the news.
"He has changed," his sister asserted, with a slight smile. "If you knew him better, you would see..."
Myra's eyes were filled with tears, fearing that her beloved brother would not approve of her boyfriend and future fiancé, if their father accepted him. Aaron hugged his sister, comforting her. She nestled into his chest.
"It's okay. If you say he has changed and you love him, and he loves you, I believe you, little sister," he declared. Then, teasingly, he added, "I don't know if you have a blocked nose, but I can smell the sweat. Don't you notice?" His sister realized it and grimaced. "Yuck," she exclaimed, pinching her nose. "Go wash yourself!" she said, laughing.
After a good shower, Aaron went down to the dining room for breakfast. To his great surprise, there were guests at the table: Mr. Alexis Dostoïevski and his son, Alexeï Dostoïevski in person.
The skinny boy had undergone an incredible transformation. Aaron could hardly believe it. He had now grown, even surpassing Aaron in height. He had become muscular, with a typical Russian look: beard, dark hair, and deep eyes.
Aaron greeted them and sat down next to his father, who always had a space next to him. They started eating.