“Would someone explain what’s going on?” Damir demanded, looking from his father to Samad.
“The thing is,” Omer said, “these companies weren’t properly vetted. The ones marked in red, including today’s, turned out to be fraudulent. They were apprehended as they were leaving the building—they’re on their way to the police now.”
Damir turned pale. He didn’t know what to say. He barely even grasped the meaning of what had just been said.
“So… twelve companies received our goods and…”
“…had no intention of paying for them,” Samad finished the sentence.
“Samad, start gathering all the documentation and file lawsuits tomorrow,” Omer ordered.
“You’re telling me I’ve bankrupted the company?” Damir asked, unable to believe his ears.
“You’re not to blame. I am,” Omer replied, mostly to himself.
“I acted too hastily. You weren’t ready for such a huge responsibility. I placed too much faith in you. I handed over the future of this company to an intern straight out of college!”
He slammed the desk with his palm. Samad remained silent, lowering his head like he was the one being scolded. But for Damir, it was a knockout. Not physically—but morally. He had fallen into a pit, a black hole. Damir sat on a bench in an alley near some building, just like almost a year ago, once again unsure of what to do next. His Tatar mother had moved in with him to his biological father’s house—his dream father. His wife, four months pregnant, also lived under the roof of the man who had just expressed his disappointment in him. He felt like screaming from hopelessness and rage—but nothing would help. He had no legal path to defend himself. No one would even listen. He was still a citizen of another country, living in Canada on a visa. Yes, he had changed his surname from Palatov to Saidi—but now he regretted it. He had no one to call, no one to seek advice from. He trusted no one in Canada. To them, he was a stranger.
Twisting a small twig in his fingers, he realized how deeply and helplessly stuck he was. A cocky lion caught in a well-set trap. Now, it was useless to thrash and chew at the steel jaws cutting into his flesh. A lion? What lion?
“What a joke,” Damir chuckled bitterly to himself.
“More like a complete idiot.”
The twig snapped in his hand, crumbling into pieces. With no idea what else to do, he got into his car and drove aimlessly. His phone, left in the car earlier when he stepped out to smoke, started ringing. It was Diana—18 missed calls, all from her. He accepted the call via Bluetooth.
“Hello, Mr. Damir? Where are you?”
“In town,” he said calmly. The world had already collapsed. No news could shock him now.
“It’s chaos here. I don’t even know what to do…”
Damir stayed silent. What could he possibly do? He didn’t even have the money to cover a tenth of the damage. The car, the bank account—none of it was truly his. Lighting a cigarette, he said, “Can you sneak out of the office and meet me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll drive up to the parking lot.”
“Okay.”
Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in his car.
“I don’t understand everything yet, but I need copies of all the contracts we’ve signed over the past six months. Can you get them?”
“I think so, Mr. Damir. But… there are rumors going around the company that you’ve swindled your own father for a huge sum of money.”
That did shock him. He turned to her with a glare, as if she were the one spreading those rumors.
“What?!”
She looked startled and shrugged. Damir gave a bitter smirk and looked straight ahead, tightening his lips. Now he was starting to understand who was behind all this. His jaw clenched, cheek muscles twitching. No way. It can’t be. We became close—back there in Russia, in Bolgar! He apologized. I forgave him! Damn it. DAMN IT!
Damir slammed the steering wheel with his fists.
“Please, calm down, Mr. Damir. This won’t help.”
He covered his face with both hands and sat in silence. Eventually, he exhaled and told her he needed to think. He’d call her back.
An hour later, Damir returned home—only to find even more chaos than at work. Loud voices filled the house—heated arguments in Persian. He saw his father—furious like a wild beast—arguing with his wife. She was defending her biological son. They were yelling at each other. Zulfiya and Aaliya sat huddled on the couch, frightened and confused.
“I didn’t take your money,” Damir said from the doorway. His father’s furious gaze met his—but Damir didn’t look away.
“It’s not about the money!” Omer said in a low but firm voice.
“I would’ve given it all to you.”
“I never took a single cent without your knowledge—believe it or not.”
“Come with me,” Omer ordered, heading into his office. Damir followed him. Omer grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and tossed it at him. It didn’t land properly—falling to the floor at Damir’s feet.
He looked at his father, then silently bent down and picked it up.
“Recognize it?” Omer asked, on the verge of shouting.
“I recognize my name. What is it?”
“What kind of lawyer are you if you don’t know what this is?!”
“I understand—it’s a bank statement…”
The words hit him like a knife. He looked again at the document. The final balance, along with regular deposits—$1,457,880.
“What the…?”
“Not a bad sum, huh?”
“Trace it—find out how the account was opened and where the funds came from!”
Damir shouted, waving the document. “I’ve never opened any account like this in my life!”
“Samad handles those things,” Omer said, turning to the window.
“Samad?!” Damir scoffed bitterly.
This time, Omer spun around and stormed back toward him. Pointing a finger at his chest, he growled, “Don’t you dare accuse him! He may not be my blood, but he has never done anything that would make us ashamed—not once! And as for my real son—well, we both know exactly what he’s capable of!”
Chapter 11
That was it.
The feeling of happiness from reuniting with his biological family, from having his father back in his life—it all began to shatter like fragile crystal. He hadn't even fully processed what he'd become, hadn't yet tasted the new life—and once again, he was being pushed away. From the very start, he felt it would all end like this. So why had he tried so hard to convince himself otherwise?
It doesn’t matter who you were born as. What matters is your purpose in this life. Those born to crawl may never fly… or maybe they can. And those who once soared high can end up at the bottom of a pit—so deep, their past flights feel like nothing but illusions.
And reality?
Reality is right here.
Early in the morning, Damir received a call from Russia. It was his former classmate and once-best friend, Vadim. The surprise thrilled him. Vadim was the only person Damir truly trusted in this entire world—and now, during the worst moment of his life, Vadim had called him.
“Hey, brother! I finally found you!