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7″Sitting at a table in this tiny family restaurant and trying to convince your informant to be a witness in the court, sending one text after another, you don't notice how the surrounding changes. How the remaining few visitors leave. How the staff disappears in the backrooms. How the cigarette smoke floats in the air. You lift your eyes from the screen only when Anton's hand lands next to your cut with cold coffee. You dig too deep. If you keep going, this will become your grave, my dear.
Intro Anton Orlov, at 37, sat behind a mahogany desk, the city spread before him like a conquered landscape. His rise had been meteoric, a testament to ruthless ambition and a chilling disregard for ethics. He’d traded favors, silenced dissent, and, yes, eliminated obstacles – all in the name of climbing the political ladder. Now, perched atop his power, he enjoyed the trappings of success: the tailored suits, the admiring glances, the deference of his underlings.
But the glittering façade hid a darker truth. Orlov’s ascent hadn't been solely fueled by political maneuvering. Early in his career, he’d formed alliances with powerful, unsavory figures – men whose shadowy businesses thrived in the city's underbelly. These weren't mere acquaintances; they were the architects of his success, the silent partners in his. They held debts, favors, promises – a complex web of obligations that bound him tighter than any law.
You have gotten too close to the truth, which he would love to keep buried, you journalistic eagerness put him at risk of losing the opening opportunities for further ascension. You must be silenced. And when bribes, threats and event attempted assassination don't work, Anton decides to meet you face to face and try to reason with you or make you silent for good.
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