The rain came down in relentless sheets, but that didn't stop Vlad from putting his plan into motion-especially after his own uncle had practically shown him the door of his office. The old man hadn't even been buried yet, and that bastard was already behaving like he owned everything. Vlad didn't know how much Uncle Sergey actually understood about the will, but one thing was clear: the fool knew perfectly well that he would be running the company for the next six months.
There was no alternative. No matter how unattractive Nadya might be, he had to make her marry him. And the person who could help him-at least, as Vlad hoped-was her mother. He needed to act fast. Victor Batalov was out of town, and that man hovered over his precious daughter like a hawk. Once he returned, getting anywhere near the girl would become much more complicated.
Just imagine-his entire future now hinged on a small, foolish blonde. How had Vladislav Darvin, a wealthy heir, managed to sink this low at twenty-six?
"Where are you headed in weather like this?" Stas called from behind him.
Despite being grown men with substantial financial independence, the brothers still lived together in their parents' house. It was their sanctuary, their private refuge. Neither of them brought their mistresses there, preserving it as the last untouched corner of their otherwise gray, joyless lives.
"Weren't you planning to hit the club again tonight?" Vlad asked, arching a brow as he slipped on his shoes.
"Not in the mood. Figured I'd spend the evening alone. What about you-off to see your future bride?"
A grin immediately spread across the younger brother's face. He would savor this for months-the fact that, for the first time in his life, Vlad had no real choice.
"Yes. I want to speak with her mother. I have a feeling she's the one who'll help me win her daughter over."
"Win her over?" Stas scoffed and burst out laughing. "She should be the one chasing you."
"Tell me something-are you really staying out of this? You have a claim to the inheritance, too."
"Not a chance. A body like that shouldn't be wasted on just one woman-especially one that plain and dim."
Stas ran a hand through his carefully styled fair hair and smiled with lazy arrogance.
"Good thing I don't care," Vlad replied, pulling the door open. "There's too much money on the line. I wouldn't give a damn if I had to wake up next to a wicked old witch every morning."
The door shut behind him. He opened his umbrella and made his way toward the car.
The drive to the Batalovs' estate took longer than usual because of the violent storm. Fortunately, Vlad had arranged gifts for both women in advance-otherwise,e he would have wasted valuable time searching for a flower shop, which at this hour would already be closed.
He was just about to knock when the door creaked open. Apparently, he was expected.
"Good evening," the middle-aged housekeeper said, stepping aside to let him in. "Mrs. Katerina is waiting for you in the living room. May I take your umbrella?"
Handing over the dripping umbrella, Darvin lifted his chin slightly and made his way inside. He remembered the house well from childhood. His grandfather used to drag him here nearly against his will, forcing him to spend time with a small girl who cried constantly. Stas would always slip away to the garden, leaving Vlad to endure Nadya's tears after yet another cutting remark he had thrown her way.
Katerina sat upright in an armchair, her posture flawless, her presence composed and dignified. If only her daughter had inherited that grace-but no. Vladislav would have to refine his future wife himself.
"You look radiant as always, Mrs. Katerina," he said, stepping closer.
She smiled warmly and extended her hand for him to kiss.
"That may be a bit formal. Please, call me Katerina."
"As you wish, Katerina," he replied, taking a seat across from her. "And where is your daughter? I was hoping to see her."
"Nadya was caught in the rain and isn't feeling well. She's upstairs in her room. You're welcome to see her, but she won't be joining us for dinner."
"I'd like to speak with her-just a little later. For now, I have something important to discuss with you."
This was the perfect moment to present the carefully rehearsed story. After that, he would move on to winning over the girl herself. He had no doubt the outcome would come quickly. Nadya was still naïve when it came to men. A few well-practiced gestures, a handful of calculated compliments-and she would melt at his feet like warm caramel.
"You've piqued my curiosity. What is it about?"
"Your daughter, of course." Darvin paused, noting the flicker of interest in her eyes before continuing. "It's no secret that my grandfather Makar and your father-in-law Albert dreamed of uniting our families. Before he passed, my grandfather shared his final wish with me, and I simply cannot break a promise made to a dying man."
"You're not telling me you intend to marry my daughter because of the sentimental whims of two elderly men?" Her tone shifted abruptly, turning sharp and cool.
Clearly, mentioning the will was a mistake. Convincing his future mother-in-law of his sincerity was the smarter path.
"The truth is, I care for your daughter. And I genuinely can't imagine a more suitable wife for myself."
"I'm not certain my daughter feels the same way. And naturally, I won't force her into anything."
"I understand completely. But perhaps, like me, she'll grow to care. This means a great deal to me. I won't pressure her. If she says no, I'll step aside."
"I have no objections," Katerina said after a pause. "I do think you'd make a good husband for Nadya. Fortunately, your grandfather didn't place this burden on his other grandson. That rude troublemaker, Sta,s has always irritated me."
"You're absolutely right," Vlad replied with a faint smirk, lifting the teacup she had offered him. "My brother isn't ready to devote himself to one woman. I, on the other hand, want a family. Children."
"Let's not rush that," she said gently. "Nadya is still studying, and her career-"
"I understand. I'm willing to wait as long as necessary."
"Dinner will be ready in half an hour. You may go upstairs to see Nadya in the meantime. And the weather outside is dreadful-it's already dark. Would you consider staying the night? We have plenty of guest rooms."
"If it's no trouble," he said, rising to his feet, "I'd be glad to stay. Nadya's room is still on the third floor, correct?"
Katerina nodded, smiling after him as he left the room.
Vlad ascended the stairs slowly, steadying his thoughts and preparing himself for the conversation ahead. Everything always seemed simple in his mind-but reality had a way of complicating even the best-laid plans.
He knocked.
A quiet voice invited him in.
Without hesitation, he stepped inside and firmly shut the door behind him, cutting off any instinct to retreat before the real battle even began.
