Claimed by Two Brothers

Prologue

The walls of the house had always weighed heavily 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 rather than a conscious choice. He could have hired at least a housekeeper, yet the only staff member left was an elderly cook who no longer had the strength to keep the place in order. After the death of his best friend, the old man had completely lost his will, as if he were simply waiting for this meaningless life to come to an end.

The brothers knew perfectly well why their grandfather had summoned them today, but the strangeness began the moment they realized that their uncle-who, like them, had every right to the inheritance-was nowhere to be seen. Only the two of them, Makar himself, and the notary were present.

"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 accepted that his older brother would inherit everything and might possibly share it with their uncle. Why he himself had been summoned, 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 his time before making important decisions, just as he was doing now, so no one dared interrupt him.

But the silence stretched on for too long, and finally it was broken by Vlad's voice.

"I understand you have plenty of free time, but I have a contract signing that can't wait."

The elderly man opened his pale eyes and finally spoke.

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

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

"Then 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 faint smile. "And you, Vlad, have turned into a soulless machine. I 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're not seriously saying you're leaving everything to Uncle Sergey?" Vlad scoffed, stepping away from his brother with a smug expression. 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?" Vlad tensed, sensing the iron resolve in his grandfather's voice. He knew all too well that once the old man made up his mind, there was no changing it.

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

"You're starting that again, old man?" Stas laughed, glancing at his brother, who had gone pale. They both knew exactly where Makar was headed.

"Don't interrupt me, you brat!" the old man snapped. "God help me, what ungrateful grandsons I have. In short, we both had sons, so uniting the families didn't work out back then. 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 again. Stas struggled to pull himself together and finally stopped laughing.

"Grandfather, you have a very strange idea of beauty. Nadya is anything but beautiful. She's 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 fails to marry Nadezhda Batalova, everything goes to my son-Darvin Sergey."

"Have you lost your mind?" the older brother finally exploded, fully grasping 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. "Just 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. "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 that," the notary replied, carefully writing down his client's words before adding 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 didn't care in the slightest 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 the early mornings offered only a brief, fragile coolness. Sitting 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 carry the business on your shoulders, so what's the problem? Think of it as a small, unpleasant addition to enormous money and endless opportunities. You don't want to leave everything to our dear uncle, do you?"

"And I see you're not planning to join the fight for the business?" Vlad stood, took a few steps away, and leaned against a tree. Stroking his dark beard, he considered 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 the sole heir to the Batalov fortune. Can you imagine what a profitable match that would be?"

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

Silence settled 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.