“Not another step into this restaurant, do you understand?” she hissed through clenched teeth, her sharp nails digging into the granite countertop.
“Of course, Ekaterina Pavlovna. As you wish,” I replied with a calm smile, though inside, I could already feel the warm thrill of impending triumph.
The White Swan had once been the pride of the city’s main avenue. Now, its former grandeur existed only in fading memories. Marble columns and crystal chandeliers cast dull reflections on a nearly empty hall, where waiters drifted like ghosts, careful to avoid their owner’s piercing gaze. Sparse patrons whispered amongst themselves, as if afraid to disturb the suffocating silence.
I walked unhurriedly toward my car, parked around the corner where Artem was waiting. My heels tapped steadily against the cobblestone, counting down the moments until I could finally allow myself to laugh.
“Still as unbearable?” he asked, holding the car door open for me.
“Absolutely. Only now, her little kingdom is crumbling right beneath her nose,” I said, settling into the passenger seat.
Three years ago, I sat at the kitchen table of our house, struggling to finish a cold dinner. My father and Ekaterina had long since finished their meal and moved to the living room, where her artificial laughter mingled with the sound of the television.
“Anna, why didn’t you clean up after yourself yesterday?” Her voice came from uncomfortably close.
“I did,” I countered, lifting my gaze from the plate. “I washed the dishes and wiped the table.”
“Then what is this?” She pointed at a barely noticeable stain on the tablecloth.
“Ekaterina… maybe enough?” My father’s tired voice came from the living room.
“No. A daughter should understand what it means to respect other people’s work. I am not going to live like a servant.”
My fists clenched under the table. At twenty-two, I was still being spoken to like a careless child. And my father… he simply turned back to his show.
“Prepare the documents,” I said, handing Artem a flash drive. “It’s time to show her who really owns this place.”
“Are you sure?” He studied me carefully. “We could wait a little longer, let her sink completely into debt.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I want to see her face now, while she still believes she’s in control.”
Artem smirked and started the car. The engine purred as we pulled away, leaving behind the restaurant with its faded sign. Ekaterina had no idea that over the past six months, I had acquired a controlling stake in her beloved business through a network of intermediaries. She didn’t know that every investor she had desperately sought had been subtly turned away by my intervention.
The time for the final act had arrived, and I intended to savor every moment of the performance.
“Ekaterina Pavlovna, there’s… something…” Liza fidgeted in the doorway of her office, clutching a folder of financial reports.
“What ‘something’?” Ekaterina snapped, her eyes still fixed on her laptop screen. “I don’t have time for riddles.”
“The investor has arrived. The one you’ve been waiting for. He’s in the VIP lounge.”
Ekaterina froze, slowly closing her laptop. For months, she had exhausted every connection, knocking on the doors of banks and pleading with potential saviors for her business. And now, as the long-awaited buyer of the controlling stake finally appeared, she felt as though she were standing at the edge of a cliff.
“Fine,” she said, smoothing a hand over her perfectly styled hair. “Bring coffee and inform the chef to prepare our finest appetizers.”
Her heels echoed sharply against the empty floor as she walked through the restaurant, where the midday rush should have been in full swing. The White Swan was fading, and deep down, she knew it. Young, innovative restaurants were drawing customers away, while her old connections dissolved one by one.
The VIP lounge was dimly lit, accompanied by the soft murmur of classical music. At a table by the window sat a figure she knew too well. For a moment, she thought her vision was deceiving her.
“You?” The word escaped before she could stop it.
Anna turned slowly, her smile sharper than a blade.
“Please, have a seat, Ekaterina Pavlovna,” she said, her voice soft yet unyielding. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“Is this some kind of joke?” Ekaterina gripped the back of the chair. “You can’t possibly be—”
“An investor?” Anna pulled a thick stack of documents from a leather folder. “Sit down. You’ll want to read this.”
Ekaterina’s legs felt weak as she lowered herself into the chair. It was impossible. Simply impossible. The girl she had thrown out of the house three years ago now sat before her, dressed in an elegant Chanel suit, wearing a predator’s smile.
“Fifty-one percent ownership,” Anna slid the documents across the table. “Through a network of holding companies, of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise too soon.”
Liza appeared with a coffee tray, but Ekaterina waved her away with an abrupt gesture.
“Leave.”
“No need to take it out on the staff,” Anna remarked coolly. “Speaking of which, you’re late on last month’s payroll. And suppliers have started asking about your quarterly financials.”
“You’ve been spying on me?” Ekaterina’s face turned pale with fury.
“I’ve been studying my investment,” Anna said, sipping her coffee. “And frankly, the numbers are dismal. High turnover, declining revenue, health violations… the list goes on.”
Ekaterina let out a bitter laugh. “So what now? You came here for revenge? To tear down everything I built?”
“Quite the opposite,” Anna’s smile widened. “I want to save this place. But on my terms.”
She slid another document forward.
“A new management contract. Clear responsibilities, strict guidelines. No more mistreatment of employees. No more financial manipulation. And absolutely no personal expenses on the restaurant’s account.”
“And if I refuse?” Ekaterina’s gaze burned with defiance.
“Then I withdraw my funds. We’ll see how long The White Swan lasts without financial support. A month? Less?”
Silence settled over the room. Rain had started outside, the droplets tracing slow paths down the window, mirroring the weight of the moment.
“You know,” Ekaterina finally said, staring at the rain, “I always knew you’d come back for revenge. But I never imagined it would be like this.”
“This isn’t revenge,” Anna shook her head. “It’s business. I’m giving you a chance to fix things. To start over.”
“Under your control?”
“As partners.”
Ekaterina hesitated for a long moment before she finally reached for the pen.
“Where do I sign?”
“Here,” Anna pointed. “And here. Also, on the third page.”
As the final signature was placed, Ekaterina exhaled sharply, as if releasing years of built-up tension.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Now we get to work,” Anna said, rising from her chair. “Staff meeting tomorrow at ten. Don’t be late… partner.”
At the door, she paused.
“Oh, and Ekaterina Pavlovna… don’t ever try to throw me out of this restaurant again.”
Left alone, Ekaterina wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, staring at the rain. She wasn’t sure what she felt more—fear or relief. But for the first time in months, one thing was clear: The White Swan would survive. At least for today.