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.