When Simon appeared at the reception in the hall downstairs, the atmosphere was lively. A small, fearless child was confidently moving through the crowd, saying something that made everyone burst into laughter.
Spotting Simon, the little girl being held by a model immediately leaned toward him, calling out, "Daddy, hug me!"
The room's atmosphere shifted slightly.
Everyone recognized Simon Westeros, of course. They were all here because of him. But no one had mentioned that this charming little girl was Simon's daughter. Some guests, who were aware of Simon's personal history, were even more curious, though they didn't doubt it. Given his lifestyle, a child or two wasn't surprising at all.
Simon took Nina from the model's arms, and when she held up a piece of nut-filled muffin she'd been clutching, he took a playful bite, then pretended to nibble her little hand, which sent her into fits of giggles.
After their affectionate interaction, Simon whispered a few words to her. Though Nina was very outgoing, unlike her mother, she had been taught well by Shulshkina and was respectful when needed. Hearing Simon's serious tone about needing to discuss something important, she obediently nodded and allowed him to hand her back to the model, waving and saying goodbye.
Once the model had taken Nina away, Simon started to mingle with the guests.
Tonight, the attendees included high-ranking officials from Leningrad Oblast, where St. Petersburg is located, and senior executives from Westeros Enterprises' operations in Russia.
Simon was well aware of Russia's historical trajectory.
Since the turn of the millennium, Russia had been largely controlled by the so-called "St. Petersburg Clan" for twenty years.
From the beginning, Simon had focused the Westeros empire's Russian presence in St. Petersburg, rather than in Moscow, where most oligarchs were concentrated. Companies directly or indirectly controlled by Westeros Enterprises, including Mikhail Fridman's Alfa Group, were mostly headquartered in St. Petersburg.
Over the years, this focus had forged substantial ties between the Westeros empire and the emerging St. Petersburg Clan.
Because Simon was attending, the fiercely competitive political factions of St. Petersburg—whether from the outgoing mayor's team or the newly elected one—all put their differences aside and attended the reception amicably.
They kept a close eye on the young man's every move.
Simon understood the guests' mindset, which made him all the more cautious.
After mingling for over half an hour, he finally, as if casually, approached a short, balding, stern-looking middle-aged man, raising his glass. "Hello, Vladimir."
The man didn't seem surprised to hear Simon address him by name, and he lifted his glass in response. "Hello, Mr. Westeros."
With a smile, Simon got straight to the point. "I know a bit about you—the 'Grey Cardinal of Smolny Palace.' So, now that Sobchak is leaving, have you decided what you'll do next? Stay in city government, or something else?"
Smolny Palace, the site of St. Petersburg's city government, was where Lenin had once commanded the October Revolution.
The "Grey Cardinal of Smolny Palace" was a fitting nickname, symbolizing a figure operating behind the scenes.
It was a nickname given to this man over the last few years. Sobchak, having come from academia, lacked governing skills, leaving many city matters to his former student and deputy mayor.
It spoke volumes about the man's abilities.
The middle-aged man smiled faintly at Simon's mention of the title, shaking his head. "I haven't decided yet, but I certainly won't stay in city government."
Simon, once again, got right to the point. "Are you interested in working for me?"
The man looked surprised. "Hmm?"
Simon said, "You know, it's a common practice in the West for politicians to enter the private sector after serving the government for a few years."
"Mr. Westeros, I don't have any business experience."
"No one starts out knowing everything. Besides, working for me doesn't necessarily mean doing business."
After a brief hesitation, the man glanced at his mentor, Sobchak, standing nearby, then returned his gaze to Simon, adopting a serious expression. "Mr. Westeros, I admit your offer is tempting. But if you want me to work for you, you'll have to grant me one request first."
"What is it?"
"Use your influence in Moscow to help Anatoly out of his current predicament."
Anatoly was Sobchak's first name.
Anatoly Sobchak hadn't achieved much during his term, but he had managed to avoid any serious scandals. However, his radical political stance had earned him many enemies, ultimately leading to his defeat in the election.
According to Russian political customs, his next ordeal would likely be a round of prosecutions.
Simon was already aware of this.
Sobchak was currently facing multiple lawsuits, one of the more solid charges being the abuse of power to help a relative with housing.
Compared to Moscow's oligarchs, who were brazenly plundering state assets, the fact that the mayor of Russia's second-largest city had merely helped a family member secure housing—a government-subsidized apartment purchased during privatization—was almost laughable.
Could a mayor be any less effective?
Simon nodded. "No problem, but you'll have to handle it yourself."
"Hm?"
"I just had a conversation with a few people, and you'll soon receive an invitation to Moscow. The position won't be low-ranking, and you'll be able to use your new authority to assist Mr. Sobchak out of his predicament."
The man hesitated momentarily.
Simon reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "Vladimir, one day, you'll understand. Then you can pretend we never had this conversation or treat it as a joke. But don't decline Moscow's invitation."
With that, Simon walked away.
In the course of history, one of the reasons this man was ultimately chosen by Yeltsin as his successor was due to an act of betrayal. After moving to Moscow, he had, of his own accord, used his influence to help his mentor, who was entangled in political strife, escape Russia, only to later confess the act to Yeltsin himself.
Sobchak had been an opponent of Yeltsin as well.
In the end, Yeltsin didn't penalize him but instead saw this willingness to sacrifice his position for his mentor as proof of loyalty, which helped solidify Yeltsin's decision.
At this moment…
No one understood the significance of this brief exchange in the eastern suburbs of St. Petersburg.
Simon stayed at the reception for another ten minutes before saying his goodbyes and leaving.
The next day was June 1.
Saturday.
Early in the morning, Simon departed for the capital of Rivne Oblast in northwest Ukraine. The airport, which Westeros Enterprises had invested in, was operational, so he no longer needed to go through Kyiv.
By the time Simon arrived, another "weeding operation" by the Westeros empire in Rivne Oblast was already underway.
Unlike Russia, where stability had returned for now, Ukraine's economy continued to decline.
Data from Ukraine's domestic economy in the first few months of the year suggested that GDP for 1996 was likely to fall by around 10% from 1995.
For the average person, these numbers are hard to visualize. But to those living there, a 10% drop in GDP in one year meant only one thing—disaster.
Unemployment was rampant, crime rates were soaring, and political instability was driving hopeless citizens to flee the country, creating conditions even worse than the Great Depression in the 1930s.
Against this backdrop, Rivne Oblast had become a rare bright spot thanks to the relentless investment by Westeros Enterprises.
For many, it was the best place to make a living.
Consequently, Rivne's population had surged to over 700,000. Fleeing to Western Europe seemed appealing, but if people could remain in their homeland, most preferred to stay.
At the same time, to certain other people, the flourishing Rivne Oblast was a tantalizing piece of meat.
Simon only wanted control over this area. As for profits, he had never planned to monopolize them, and he hadn't even sought to make significant money from this impoverished land.
To that end, he'd shared a considerable portion of the benefits.
Yet greed was a constant. Some Ukrainian elites, no different from Russia's deranged oligarchs, kept pushing for more.
In other words, they wanted more from Simon.
At his current level, Simon no longer pursued wealth for its own sake. His philosophy regarding wealth had remained unchanged:
What's mine is mine.
Only what I choose to give can be yours.
If anyone thought Simon Westeros had too much, and that taking a bit wouldn't hurt, they had better be prepared to pay a steep price.
When Simon's private jet landed at the airport on Rivne's western outskirts, the weeding operation was nearly complete, with only a few matters awaiting Simon's personal decisions.
This time, he didn't stay at the southern villa.
Simon and his group left the airport and headed straight through the city to a hot spring resort in the northern part of Rivne.
Being Saturday, the summer sun made the bustling city seem even more vibrant.
At the same time, certain things were harder to hide in the sunlight.
For example, a street in the city's north that Simon's convoy passed through had a five-story building still bearing the charred marks of a recent fire, its burned smell lingering even as they drove by.
Three days prior, in the early hours of the morning, a police raid had taken place there.
Rivne police had forcefully dismantled a gang entrenched in a nightclub within the building. The raid involved a shoot
out that left one officer dead, two others critically wounded, and set the nightclub ablaze. The official report claimed three gang members dead and seven wounded.
The reality? Only the morgue workers knew for sure.
The true reason for this? Simon was cutting off certain unwanted influences creeping into the city.
In the same raid, a deputy mayor recently transferred to Rivne was arrested, while Celia Miller, representing Simon, had directly pressured Kyiv into accepting Westeros's terms.
This was just one aspect of the weeding operation.
The key target was Westeros Enterprises' local operations in Rivne, particularly UFMS (Ukraine Front Military Service Company).
Simon's control over this private military force was far stricter than over his business operations. In truth, his entire Ukrainian investment strategy revolved around this private military force. As long as others weren't too greedy, he'd turn a blind eye, but attempts to infiltrate UFMS wouldn't be tolerated.
That was the red line.
Therefore, this time, he unhesitatingly purged another batch of disruptive individuals, six of whom vanished without a trace.
When Simon arrived at the northern hot spring resort in Rivne, a robust security setup awaited him.
UFMS had deployed 300 armed personnel around the resort, which had been meticulously swept by Westeros's private security team to ensure no surveillance devices or safety risks.
As Simon got out in front of the main villa, Celia Miller, accompanied by her assistant Emily Chaplin, came to greet him.
Standing nearby were two rows of eight girls dressed in matching uniforms.
Just like his first visit to the southern villa in Rivne.
This was the second batch.
Grace had helped select them.
Elite had been running its annual Elite Model Look competitions since April, with the finals scheduled for July. Given Simon's investment in Ukraine and the quality of local models, Grace had also established a regional contest here.
In the meantime, she had picked out a few girls as "collectibles" for Simon.
The eight nearby were her choices.
They were around the same age as the previous six, tall and fresh-faced, giving Simon the impression of young lilies.
After briefly greeting them, Simon noticed Celia's expression suggesting she had something important to discuss. Taking her into the villa's study, he asked what was on her mind.
"Boss, before you arrived, I received a peculiar call from Moscow." As she spoke, Celia handed him a folder. "The caller said her name was Tatyana. She mentioned she met with you last night and hopes you'll visit Moscow after finishing in Ukraine."
Simon opened the folder to find only a single page with a time and location.
He quickly understood.
It made sense.
The conversation with Tatyana the previous night involved high stakes. If examined closely, Simon's words effectively placed him in the position of steering a nation's future—not a small one like Ukraine, but a major power.
And when it came to the Yeltsin family's future, Simon's brief instructions would naturally raise doubts.
Thus, further clarification was needed.
This time, however, the meeting would clearly not be with Tatyana; by asking Simon to go to Moscow, the intended meeting partner was obvious.
After a quick glance at the location on the page, Simon instructed Celia to bring a lighter.
Then he set the page alight.
He had no intention of going.
He had already offered his choice, and whatever Yeltsin decided was his business. Besides, Simon was confident that Yeltsin would have little choice in the future. Intervening more now would only increase the likelihood of a backlash.
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