The Death Sentence
“You have eighteen months left to live.”
Nikolai Volkov laughed. The low sound of his laughter echoed off the walls of the consultation room. “Nice try, Dr Park. What’s the real diagnosis? Or is this your idea of a sick joke?”
The neurologist didn’t smile. He slid a set of MRI scans across the table. The images of the scan showed abnormal white patches scattered around Nikolai’s brain and spinal cord.
“This is no joke, Mr Volkov,” the doctor said with a heavy voice. “You have a rare, aggressive neurodegenerative disease and it has no cure. It weakens your motor neurons and your muscles will gradually deteriorate. First your arms and legs, eventually you will lose control of your entire body…including your ability to breathe.”
Nikolai stared at the scans. For the first time in years, the world felt off-balance.
He rose up to his feet abruptly while buttoning his suit jacket. “Run the tests again. I want every specialist on this planet looking at this tonight. I didn’t pay you and your team millions for you to deliver me a death sentence.”
“We’ve already had three independent specialists review the results,” Dr Park replied calmly. “I’m truly sorry.”
Nikolai didn’t wait for any more condolences. He stormed out of the office, slamming the door so hard that it could shift off its frame. The elevator ride down forty floors felt like he was descending into hell. When the doors opened into the dimly lit underground parking lot, he exploded with rage.
He bumped his fist against the steel elevator wall twice and blood smeared across the metal. The pain was sharp but he welcomed it, at least he could control this pain.
He climbed into his black Aston Martin and powered the engine. Heavy rain hit against the windshield as he pushed the car faster, moving like a possessed man on the traffic road.
Eighteen months.
The word kept repeating in his head.
He was thirty-eight years old, at the peak of his power. He had built Volkov Dynamics into a biotech empire worth billions. He had crushed every enemy and bent the world to his will and now some invisible disease inside his own body was going to take it all away?
“f**k that.” He snarled, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
The next minute, his body betrayed him. Without warning, his vision blurred and his right hand started shaking violently causing him to swerve the car onto the next lane. Nikolai cursed and yanked the wheels back, barely avoiding a truck. The car trailed on the wet road before he regained control and slammed the brakes.
Nikolai stared at his trembling hand that was now stained with blood from his injured knuckles. For several long seconds, he couldn’t breathe properly.
It wasn’t a joke. It was real.
——————————————————-
By the time Nikolai reached the Volkov mansion just outside the city, the rain had increased massively. He stormed inside, dried blood still on his knuckles, his designer shirt was wrinkled and damp.
His grandfather, Viktor Volkov, was waiting in his grand study, seated behind a massive oak desk like a king on his throne. At seventy nine, the old man was still sharp, ruthless and unwilling to let go of power.
The old man didn’t ask about the doctor’s appointment, he didn’t even look concerned.
Instead, he picked up a newspaper and threw it onto the table in front of Nikolai. The headline was written in bold black letters:
VOLKOV EMPIRE SUCCESSOR STILL SINGLE AT 38.
“You’ve played bachelor long enough,” Viktor’s voice was like ice. “Produce a legitimate heir within one year or I’ll hand over the company to your cousin, Marcus.”
Nikolai raised his head to his grandfather in surprise. It was already hard enough that he just received a death sentence from his doctor and now his grandfather was trying to manipulate him.
“You will not do that!”
“Try me and see. The whole board is behind me. We’ll not allow the Volkov generation to end with you, or worse, with some illegitimate bastard you desperately tried to create before you rot.”
Nikolai knew Dr Park must have informed his grandfather about his incurable disease the moment he left the hospital. f*****g bastard, he cursed in his mind.
He tightened his jaw but he remained silent, letting the old man continue.
“All these years of chasing power and women, yet you refuse to settle down. Your cousin Marcus has been positioning himself as the stable choice and a reliable father while you remain a lone wolf without an heir. Shame,” Viktor shook his head in disappointment. “Produce a legitimate child in one year, Nikolai. Marry someone suitable, get her pregnant and secure the bloodline or I will sign the papers myself to transfer the controlling shares to Marcus. The Volkov empire would continue, with or without you!”
Nikolai felt the weight of his old man’s words crushing him. He got an eighteen month death sentence and now this one-year ultimatum from the man who had always tried to control him all his life.
“You would do that?” Nikolai asked, his voice was dangerously low. “While I’m fighting for my life?”
Viktor’s expression didn’t soften. “This family has survived worse than your illness. We don’t deal with emotions here, so do what I’m offering or step aside. End of discussion.”
Nikolai stood motionless in the center of the study. For the first time in his privileged and powerful life, he felt out of control and the feeling was terrifying to him.
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the study. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number that connected on the first ring.
“Find me the best fixer you know in the country,” he said with an urgent voice. “I need a wife. Tonight.”
