Chapter 11

Ivan entered behind me and calmly closed the sliding door that separated the kitchen from the living room. He stretched out his hand, asking me for the sheet, and I gave it to him with a trembling arm. He looked at the photographs in the article and read a little of what was written in English, and for several minutes neither of us said anything.

Until Ivan grimaced and dented the blade in one of his large fists.

“And what do you plan to do with this?” he asked sharply. “I understand that you are afraid of what I am and want to protect yourself, but I have already assured you that neither my son nor I are going to do you any harm, Johanna.”

Gosh, he was so tall and seemed so big compared to me that—

“Well, look… I’ve had this feeling all afternoon that I knew you,” I began, with more poise. “You are the eldest son of that Russian businessman, Illya Valinchenko. The owner of the VLC Group, isn’t that true? Your name is—”

“Ivan Sergei Illych Valinchenko.