Chapter 1
1980
The young man knocked on the door of a roadside motel room.
A minute later, a rather beautiful girl with long, blonde curls and a light, short dress appeared on the threshold, her face filled with surprise.
«Why are you here? Where’s your brother?» she asked, glancing around.
«He’s not coming.» The tall, dark-haired man narrowed his eyes and, without waiting for an invitation, stepped inside.
Startled by his audacity, the girl instinctively moved to the side. Meanwhile, the visitor stopped in the middle of the room, noticing an open suitcase on the bed, filled with neatly folded clothes. His gaze swept over the surroundings before he spoke in a commanding tone:
«You need to go back home and forget about him forever.»
Looking at him in confusion, the girl immediately responded, «That will never happen!»
«If you truly love him, you’ll listen to me.»
He turned to face her, his black eyes locking onto her large, blue ones.
His gaze made her take a step back. Yet, in a quiet but firm voice, she said, «That’s not for you to decide.»
«You don’t understand. Family bonds mean everything to us. If he stays with you, he will suffer. He’s going against our father because of you,» he growled, his brows furrowing as his voice took on a harsher edge. «This won’t end well. Disaster will follow. Leave and forget about him!»
He was trying to make her see the seriousness of the situation. But she was stubborn, snapping back at him with a defiant «No!»
Yet at that moment, a shiver ran through her body. A strange, unsettling feeling washed over her—an anxious fear, as if something terrible was about to happen.
She kept backing away until she felt the cold press of the wall against her back, right next to the window. Her wide eyes never left him.
Noticing her distress, the man was momentarily puzzled. He hadn’t moved from his spot—his hands were casually tucked into his pockets, and he was simply talking. And yet, she was trembling.
With bated breath, she cast a desperate glance out the window, as if hoping for salvation. The day had dragged into the evening in endless waiting for her beloved. Until the very last moment, she had clung to hope, listening intently for his footsteps. But they never came.
Meanwhile, the man stood still, analyzing the situation. Leaving things as they were and walking away now seemed impossible. Since he had come this far, he had to at least try to change something. He saw it as his duty to save his brother from the looming threat—no matter the cost.
As he studied her closely, an unsettling realization formed in his mind. His brother’s chosen woman was undeniably alluring—her porcelain-white skin, full lips tinged with the soft pink of a newborn, framed by a halo of golden hair. Her body was already that of a mature woman, with a graceful, feminine shape and long, slender legs. She was a sight to admire… and a temptation strong enough to make a man lose his senses.
But his brother had to be stopped.
And so, he made a decision—he would go to the extreme.
The fear in her eyes deepened as she noticed the man, who had so suddenly appeared in their love nest, start moving toward her—slowly, deliberately. And the look in his eyes promised nothing good.
Chapter 2
More Than Thirty Years Later
Damir sat on a bench along the alley leading to the business centre, where he had just met with the Saidi family's lawyer. He lowered his head into his hands and closed his eyes. He couldn't wrap his mind around the news he had just received.
In a single day, his entire life had been turned upside down. And he had no idea what to do with it now. Seeking advice or telling anyone about what he had just learned wasn't something he was rushing to do. But making a decision in this situation didn't seem to make much sense either. All that was expected of him was to accept the reality placed before him and simply go with the flow.
For some time, he paced back and forth, then sat down again, lost in thought. Emotions were tearing him apart from the inside. He couldn't even decide whether to feel happy or devastated. But for some reason, his soul was in turmoil, feeling more pain than joy.
Rationally, he understood that there was no one to blame. And yet, he felt deceived by fate—like a defective toy, discarded into a pile of trash. Just when his identity had already been shaped, when he had learned to survive alone without anyone's help, after enduring all the hardships, he was suddenly presented with an entirely new version of his life.
It turned out that he hadn't needed to struggle so much to survive. That even his poor mother hadn't needed to work herself to exhaustion just so he could get an education. And now, when he had already fought his way up from the ground, he learned that things could have been much simpler. That his life could have been entirely different.
The thought of his mother tore at his heart.
Still, after some time spent in painful turmoil, he finally returned to the university dormitory, where he had been living for the past five years since his first year in law school.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah… yeah," Damir muttered absentmindedly, lying on his bed with his boots still on.
His roommate and best friend, Vadim, had just come back from the shower. He glanced at him in surprise. Damir was usually obsessively meticulous about cleanliness, yet here he was, sprawled on the bed in his jacket, fully dressed, with his arms thrown behind his head. Shrugging, Vadim turned to the wardrobe in the corner and started changing, deciding not to press the conversation. He must have understood that his friend needed to be alone. Without another word, he quickly left the room, giving Damir the solitude he seemed to need.
Two days later, Damir headed to Bolgar, his hometown. The last time he had been there was almost five years ago. So much had changed since then…
He sat in the airplane, staring out the window, but his mind was flipping through different images. His memory replayed scenes from a carefree childhood spent in the suburbs of Bolgar. Then came the years of growing up, filled with struggles and thorns he had to endure alone. His father had died in a car accident before he was even born, and he had no siblings. He had been forced to grow tough—perhaps from the cradle.
For as long as he could remember, his mother had always been working. He had largely been left to his own devices, facing every victory and every failure alone.
Recalling the reckless moments of his youth, he he grinned. I wonder how Marat is doing… a bold guy.
Marat had left a special mark in his memory, a label reading "different." Damir chuckled as he remembered their fight. Though, in truth, there had been nothing pleasant about it—none at all.
"You'll be whining like a beaten dog on your knees soon!" Marat had snarled, swinging a massive chain in the air, drawing figure eights with it.
Damir silently watched the chain's arc, calculating when to dodge the deadly weapon heading his way. He let his opponent attack freely, never once hindering him. On the contrary, taking advantage of the moment, he deliberately taunted him—stepping closer, gesturing for him to continue, only to retreat again at the last second.
The chase continued across the entire lot where their brawl had broken out. Marat pursued him relentlessly, attacking with a furious yell, trying to land a hit. But each time, Damir managed to slip away.
Finally, his opponent began to weaken. His voice grew strained, his swings less powerful.
Sensing the shift, Damir knew it was time. The next time the chain came flying, he seized its end and yanked it toward him. Marat barely had time to react before he found himself ensnared in his enemy's grasp.
In an instant, Damir wrapped the chain around his neck like a scarf and pulled.
Marat choked,