Claimed by Two Brothers

Prologuе

The walls of this house had always weighed on the nerves with their excessive luxury, pretentious grandeur, and-let's be honest-a noticeable layer of dust. Makar had always preferred solitude, but with age it had begun to resemble an illness more than a choice. He could have kept at least a housekeeper, yet the only staff member left was an elderly cook who no longer had the strength to maintain order. After the death of his best friend, the man had completely lost heart, as if he were simply waiting for this meaningless life to end.

The brothers knew perfectly well why their grandfather had summoned them today, but the oddities began the moment they realized that their uncle-who, like them, had every right to claim the inheritance-was not among those present. There were only the two of them, Makar himself, and the notary.

"Grandfather, why did you call us here so early?" Stas asked, dropping heavily into the armchair opposite the bed. He had clearly drunk far too much the night before and was now suffering from a brutal hangover. At that moment, he would have preferred to be anywhere but in this room. Stanislav had long since come to terms with the fact that his older brother would inherit everything and might possibly share it with their uncle. Why he himself had been called to this meeting, he honestly didn't understand.

Vlad stopped beside his younger brother and, in his usual manner, swept the room with a stern, assessing gaze.

The old man, who had been quietly speaking with the notary, broke off and looked at his grandsons. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and his eyes closed briefly. Makar had always taken a long time to think before making an important decision, just as he was doing now, so no one dared interrupt him.

But the silence dragged on too long, and the air was finally cut by Vlad's voice.

"I understand you have plenty of free time, but I have a contract signing burning right now."

The elderly man opened his pale eyes and finally spoke.

"Your contracts can wait." The words came out harsh and loud, but they made no impression on the grandsons. Makar couldn't understand where he had gone wrong in raising them. Perhaps their parents would have handled it better, but they had died many years ago, leaving two boys in his care. He had genuinely loved those rascals, yet everything had spiraled out of control. This situation needed to change.

"You both understand perfectly well why I called you here."

"Why call us at all? We already know who gets what," Stas groaned, clutching his head.

"Still partying, Stas?" the old man chuckled with a smile. "And you, Vlad, have turned into a soulless machine. I simply can't leave my inheritance to a pair of idiots like you. Business is a serious matter. Logic and brains alone won't take you far-you need passion."

"You don't mean to say you're leaving everything to Uncle Sergey?" Vlad scoffed, wearing a smug expression as he stepped away from his brother. The heavy smell of alcohol coming from Stas made his head spin and killed any desire to listen to the will. "He'll sink the ship before it even leaves the dock."

"I have no other choice. Either you straighten yourselves out, or the entire inheritance goes to my second son."

"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Sensing the firm resolve in his grandfather's words, Vlad tensed. He knew perfectly well that once the old man decided something, he would see it through.

"Throughout history, there's only ever been one way to deal with men." Makar smiled mysteriously and glanced at the notary, who was settling himself at the writing desk. "Long ago, sitting over a glass of strong liquor with my best friend, we dreamed of uniting our families-and our businesses..."

"You're starting again, old man?" Stas laughed, casting a glance at his brother, who had gone pale. They both knew exactly where Makar was heading.

"Don't interrupt me, you brat!" the old man snapped. "God help me, what ungrateful grandsons I've been given. In short, both of us had sons, so uniting the families didn't work out. But now everything has changed. Albert's granddaughter has grown up-a real beauty..."

A loud, ringing laugh rolled through the room, cutting him off once more. Stas struggled to pull himself together and finally stopped laughing.

"Grandfather, you have a very strange idea of beauty. Nadya is anything but a beauty. A bespectacled goblin, not a girl. You're condemning Vlad to a lifetime of misery."

"And why Vlad, exactly?" the old man raised an eyebrow in surprise, cleared his throat, and continued. "Here's how it's going to be. The inheritance will go to whichever of you marries Batalov's granddaughter. Notary, please write that down. If within six months after my death either Stas or Vlad does not marry Nadezhda Batalova, everything will go to my son-Darvin Sergey."

"Are you out of your mind?" the older brother finally burst out, fully realizing the mess he was in. "Uncle will ruin the business!"

"You have a chance to prevent that. For those six months, he will manage the company, and the two of you will have plenty of free time to court the girl."

"What's there to court?" Stas snorted, glancing at his brother and clearly enjoying his miserable expression. "Force her to marry and be done with it. Won't even take six months. I doubt there's a line of men dying to marry that fool."

"Oh no." The old man wagged his finger at him. "Notary, I want you to personally ensure that no one pressures the girl. She must walk down the aisle of her own free will. I will not tolerate any sham marriages."

"I'll make a note of it," the notary said, carefully writing down his client's words, then added with a smile, "It will be my pleasure, Mr. Makar."

"I never thought you'd saddle us with something like this," Vlad growled and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence didn't last long. The older brother soon returned, and a real scandal erupted. Stas couldn't care less about what was happening. He quietly left the house, hoping to get some fresh air. It was late spring, and the days were already growing so hot that even early mornings offered only brief, weak coolness. Sitting down on a bench near the porch, he tilted his face toward the sun and smiled broadly. Who would have thought the old man would come up with such a ridiculous condition? Luckily, it didn't concern him at all.

A few minutes later, the second brother appeared outside. He sat down beside the younger one and buried his face in his hands.

"Stubborn old man."

"Didn't manage to talk him out of it?" Stas asked smugly.

"How could I? You know perfectly well that's impossible."

"I don't get you, brother. You've always been ready to take the business on your shoulders, so what's the problem? Think of it as a small, unpleasant addition to enormous money and opportunities. You don't want to leave everything to our dear uncle, do you?"

"And you, I see, aren't planning to join the fight for the business?" Vlad stood up, took a few steps away, and leaned against a tree. Stroking his dark beard, he thought about the situation for the first time. He really could lose everything. Who knew what kind of damage Uncle Sergey might do while he was chasing after that girl?

"I don't need this business badly enough to doom myself to that fate. Every time I picture that skinny girl with her thin white braids, round glasses, and-"

"That's enough. I feel sick just thinking about her."

"Look at it from another angle. She's the only child and heir to the Batalov fortune. Can you imagine what a profitable deal that is?"

"Maybe-if you ignore the fact that I might have to share a bed with that..."

Silence fell between the brothers. The situation was grim.

"Listen," Stas said, looking at his brother. "Maybe Grandpa will change his mind. He's still strong. He'll live a long time, and one day..."

"I really hope so," Vlad replied quietly.