Later that night Viktor sat in his office waiting.
The man responsible arrived exactly one hour later.
Adrian Russo walked in carrying a folder and wearing a confident smile.
“Boss,” Adrian said casually. “You wanted to see me?”
Viktor gestured toward the chair.
“Sit.”
Adrian placed the folder on the desk.
“If this is about the Harper woman, I can explain,” he began.
“Please do.”
Adrian cleared his throat.
“The husband borrowed money before he died. Couldn’t pay it back. I simply collected what we were owed.”
Viktor studied the paperwork.
Then he asked quietly,
“When did the husband die?”
“August,” Adrian replied.
Viktor slid the document across the desk.
“And when was this loan signed?”
Adrian glanced down.
The color drained from his face.
The date was two months after the man had already died.
“You forged a dead man’s signature,” Viktor said calmly.
Silence filled the room.
“You stole from a widow and her children,” Viktor continued.
“And you used my name to do it.”
Adrian tried to speak.
“Boss, these people don’t matter. They’re nobody—”
“Wrong answer.”
Viktor’s voice turned ice cold.
“That little girl tried to sell me her bicycle so she could buy food for her mother.”
Adrian swallowed.
“Kids recover,” he muttered weakly.
“Even worse answer.”
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