Chapter 26: Chapter 26

Maksimillian

I waited for Zenovia’s call since yesterday. She had my number as I gave it to her the morning before my almost three-hour flight to Helsinki, by private jet. There was no time difference between the two cities, so there was supposed to be no problem about it at all.

It didn’t matter whether or not she was in my hotel suite. I could easily have her tailed and see what she did and ensure her safety. For some reason, I was cautious—smotret’ v oba (to be on the lookout)—about it since I knew she could be a target to get to me. After all, being one of the Russian billionaires had more than one downside. It was not all cherry days in my world.

My cousin and I had to always keep our eyes open. Otherwise, we could end up like my parents or his father, as well as our grandparents. Until now, my parents’ case hadn’t been solved. The helicopter crash was not just an accident. I knew someone was behind it. But no one could say who, even the authorities that investigated it. Not that I believed them, of course. If some other powerful oligarch would have been behind the incident, then justice would be obscured. As for my uncle, he was poisoned by an unknown enemy. We didn’t even have any idea who to suspect.

All their deaths were puzzles to me, my cousin and my aunt. We had no one to point a finger to, thus the reason why we had to be vigilant at all times.

Now that I had someone I started to care about, I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to lose her. But what the fuck was with her? Why hadn’t she called me?

‘Is she busy entertaining herself while I’m away?’ I mused with irritation.

If she wouldn’t call me within the day, I’d call her tonight. Right now, I was meeting my potential client, thankful enough that the short notice of my presence was acknowledged. Looked like this Finn still wanted to have business with Frolov-Usmanov Inc.—if I was not mistaken.

I just hoped this meeting would go smoothly as Rurik and I had hoped, just like the first client I talked with yesterday. If not, I would need to spend another couple days or more here to get another potential client. Yesterday, I was lucky Mr. Korhonen of Korhonen Steel Ltd. was delighted to add us as one of their suppliers. We did reach to an agreement instantly, and the man in his fifties was happy I came over and was able to talk to me personally. He said he admired my father even before Frolov-Usmanov Inc. diversified to steel industry over twenty years ago.

I straightened the jacket of my dark green three-piece suit. My two bulky bodyguards, wearing black three-piece suit, were behind me as we walked down the narrow silver-themed hallway of Finnkin Industry. The lady executive secretary was waiting for us by the door; her desk in a corner was behind her. She was already informed by the receptionist at the lobby when I came into the building and was instructed to go up here on the top floor. The fifteen-storey building was modern, and I couldn’t find fault in it.

The blonde, mid-thirties executive secretary greeted us with a professional smile. I took a quick mental note of her beige slacks paired with the same coloured blazer that showed off her slim figure. She looked professional with her tight bun and stud earrings.

“Welcome to Finnkin Industry, Mr. Usmanov. Mr. Mäkinen is waiting for you. May I offer you something to drink or anything?” she offered in a feminine husky voice with a gesture of her well-manicured hand. I immediately noticed her wedding ring with a shiny stone.

“No, it won’t be necessary. Thank you,” I answered formally.

She nodded curtly and opened the door for me. One of the bodyguards stayed behind, while the other followed me inside.

My eyes met the spacious but minimalist office, which had a cream-coloured carpeted floor, thus making our steps quiet. The office had an L-shape table at the farthest part of the room, with a closed glass window. It was not the only three-by-three feet window, as there were other four. Their blinds were up, giving natural light inside. Hence, there was no need for the small recessed lights in a circular formation in the ceiling to be on.

Mr. Mäkinen got up to meet me, almost jumping from his grey swivel chair. He was a man in his late forties and was half-bald with average high-bridged nose and thin blond-and-white brows. He was a head shorter than me but was stockier that the buttons of his white dress shirt appeared to separate anytime soon. His black slacks were silk and were also in the same predicament.

There was a small sitting area for visitors opposite his desk. There, he gestured for us to sit after shaking hands. Meanwhile, my bodyguard remained near the door.

“What do I owe you for this visit, Mr. Usmanov?” he asked directly, blue eyes regarding me with curiosity. His Finnish accent while speaking in English was noticeable—just like my Russian accent.

“I’m sorry again for the short notice, and I’m grateful that you spare me your precious time at your working hour, Mr. Mäkinen,” I answered and began to tell him honestly what was going on with my company. I had to, since there was no hiding it. Sooner or later, the Turkish companies would release the information that they no longer renew their contract with us. Besides, business dealings were built with trust. Therefore, honesty must prevail.

The way his round face turned from serious to concern while listening to my business story and watching my presentation that I played through the laptop I brought with me, he nodded. He injected some questions, and we talked about government policies for exporting and importing the goods, among others.

“I see.” He pursed his lips, making a thin line. “I’ll have to talk with my people about this matter.”

Right. In normal circumstances, there would have been a supplier bidding to win customers. But being one of the most powerful suppliers, it could be flexible. Albeit all these, I was ready to negotiate price-wise. It all boils down to it anyway.

“Of course, Mr. Mäkinen. I’ll be here for a couple more days,” I informed him. I knew I gave him a tight schedule, which I didn’t have the right. Perhaps. However, I couldn’t afford to stay longer and just leave Zenovia in Brașov, as I already had. “If you haven’t reached a decision by then, it’s all right. You know where to contact me. In the meanwhile, I’ll talk to others while I’m in the city,” I bluffed.

His brows knitted upon hearing it. I knew he was already weighing this chance to grab my offer, and I hid a smile. After all, they did want our high-quality products. These had been highly recommended and competitive to other suppliers, not only from Russia.

I got up and shook his hand again. He walked me to the door and invited me over dinner to his own home.

Well, I couldn’t turn him down, since he was the only potential client left that I needed to talk to. But I wondered what time I could get away to call Zenovia up, and would she be in the hotel during that time?