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“What do you mean, changes? The will is already finalized.”
I exchange a glance with Xander, who now stands imposingly by the door, arms crossed, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the room. Xander’s presence alone is enough to intimidate, but I know we need to apply more pressure.
I pull out the knife from my waistband and twirl it around my fingers, feeling the sharp blade nip at my skin. “I have no time to argue, Mr. Georgiou. I know many other ways I could convince you, so like I said, we need Philip’s will to name Dimitri as the primary heir again. You make those changes now, in front of us,” I command, my tone brooking no argument.
Haris’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “I can’t just change it like that. Philip will kill me.”
Dimitri steps forward, his expression dark. He grabs Haris by the collar, lifting him off his chair. “You’re going to do what Dion says, Haris, or you’ll have bigger problems than my father,” Dimitri growls.
The lawyer gasps, hands scrabbling at Dimitri’s grip. “Please, please! I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” he cries, his face turning pale.
“Good,” I say, nodding to Dimitri. “Put him down. Let him work.”
Dimitri releases Haris, who falls back into his chair, panting and shaking. He quickly turns to the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. His face is slick with sweat, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
Xander steps closer, watching his every move with a steely gaze. “Make sure you get everything right. No mistakes,” he warns.
“Yes, yes, I understand,” the lawyer mutters. He types the new clauses, naming Dimitri as the sole heir, his eyes darting nervously between the screen and us.
When he finishes, he prints the document, hands shaking so badly that the papers flutter as he sets them on the desk. “Here, it’s done.”
I pick them up, scanning them quickly. Everything looks in order. I nod, satisfied. “Good. Now, sign,” I instruct, placing a pen in front of him.
Haris hesitates for a split second before his survival instincts kick in. He takes the pen and scrawls his signature at the bottom. He then looks up at us, a plea for mercy in his eyes.
Dimitri steps forward again, this time gripping onto Haris’s shoulder in a mockery of reassurance. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says, his tone deceptively gentle.
“No, no, it wasn’t. Please, just let me go now,” Haris begs.
I nod to Dimitri, and he places the lawyer’s hand flat on the desk.
“Please,” he screeches. “I did everything you asked. The will is changed. Please, I’ve done everything.”
“We’re aware, Mr. Georgiou. But there’s still the matter of ensuring your silence.”
His eyes widen further. “I-I won’t say anything. I swear it.”
I pick up my knife and he recoils, pressing back into his chair. “No, please! There’s no need for that. I swear I’ll keep my mouth shut!”
Dimitri steps forward, grabbing Haris’s right hand and slamming it back onto the desk. Haris cries out, struggling in vain to free himself from Dimitri’s iron grip.
In one swift motion, I bring the knife down, plunging it through his hand and into the wooden table beneath it. The blade pierces flesh and bone, eliciting a scream of agony from the man. Blood wells up around the knife, spilling onto the desk.
His shouts echo in the small office, his face contorted in pain and tears stream down his cheeks.
I lean in close, my face inches from his. “Remember this pain, Haris. If you breathe a word of what happened here, if you even think about betraying us, this will be a pleasant memory compared to what comes next.”
I yank the knife free, and he collapses onto the desk, cradling his injured hand, sobbing uncontrollably. Xander and Dimitri step back.
“Let’s go,” I say, turning to leave. “We’ve made our point. One of our men will come in to clean up the mess and get rid of him.”
I wipe the blade clean and slide it into my jacket, grim satisfaction settling over me.
Step one is complete: Philip’s estate belongs to Dimitri again.
Next step: get my girl back.
32
