In the northern part of Rivne, within the private hot spring estate where Simon kept his most trusted inner circle, dawn was just breaking. Celia Miller, awakened by the subtle rustling sounds nearby, opened her eyes. She noticed a figure by the window getting dressed and smiled as she propped her head up to observe.
Emily Joplin, who was fastening the last button on her shirt, noticed her boss was awake. She leaned down to kiss her and said, "Celia, you should sleep a little longer."
Celia grabbed Emily's arm. "Don't leave. Stay and sleep with me."
Emily chuckled. "It wouldn't be good if they saw us." Despite her words, she let Celia tug her closer. "By the way, what do you want for breakfast?"
Celia smiled mischievously. "Let me think. At a time like this, the boss would probably say, 'I want you.'"
"Ha!" Emily laughed.
After a bit more playful banter, Celia finally let Emily go. She lay back down, deciding to indulge in a lazy morning. The past couple of days had been exhausting.
However, not long after she drifted back to sleep, Emily came back and gently shook her awake. Celia opened her eyes and smiled. "Changed your mind and decided to join me?"
"No," Emily replied, her expression serious. "Tymoshenko is at the gate."
Celia froze for a moment, processing what she had just heard. She glanced at the clock on Emily's wrist. It was barely past 7:30 AM. She sighed. "She's a determined woman, I'll give her that. Too bad. Emily, send her away. Tell her I won't see her."
"I already told her that," Emily said. "But she claims she won't leave unless she sees you."
Celia burrowed deeper into the covers, her voice lazily defiant. "Then let her wait. It's freezing out there. She'll leave when she can't stand it anymore."
Emily chuckled. "She's sitting in her car. She's not going to freeze. And honestly, I think if you don't meet her, she'll follow us around all day."
"Simon specifically said I'm not to deal with people like her. If she persists, we can call a helicopter after breakfast and fly into the city. Let's see how she keeps up with that."
"Alright."
Emily left to carry out the orders but returned again not long after. She stood by the bed and said, "Tymoshenko claims she's not here on behalf of Lazarenko. She says she's representing herself and wants to talk."
Celia murmured groggily, "Huh?"
"It's obvious, Celia. Tymoshenko is planning to break away from Lazarenko. She's here to seek allegiance with us," Emily explained. "So, should we still turn her away?"
Celia paused for a moment, realizing the implications. Then she abruptly sat up in bed.
Although Tymoshenko's rise to power was partly due to her association with Lazarenko, her ability to build such a vast network in just a few years spoke volumes about her competence. Celia, as a fellow woman, couldn't help but admire her to some extent. Up until now, she had adhered to Simon's orders and intended to ignore her.
But Simon's instructions, as Celia understood them, were based on Tymoshenko's continued alliance with Lazarenko. If Tymoshenko was now seeking to join the Westeros system, even if Celia realized that bringing another beautiful woman into Simon's orbit might dilute her own influence in Ukraine, her duty to Simon's interests came first.
This could be an opportunity.
Twenty minutes later, now fully dressed, Celia descended to the villa's first-floor study, where Yulia Tymoshenko was already waiting. Tymoshenko quickly rose from the sofa as Celia entered.
"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tymoshenko."
"Hello, Ms. Miller."
As they shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, Celia discreetly sized up the woman before her. Tymoshenko, who was around the same age as Celia, wore a fashionable pink Chanel suit. Her ash-blond hair was loosely styled, giving her an air of vulnerability that contrasted sharply with her reputation as the "Gas Princess" of Ukraine.
Celia didn't dwell on whether Tymoshenko's attire was calculated. Once they were seated, she got straight to the point. "Ms. Tymoshenko, Emily mentioned that you're here representing yourself. Is that correct?"
Tymoshenko nodded and spoke without pretense. "If Mr. Westeros is willing to accept me, I hope to join the Rivne group and become part of the Westeros system."
Celia, less surprised now than she had been earlier when Emily relayed the message, replied with a touch of irony. "And what about Lazarenko?"
"My relationship with Lazarenko has always been one of partnership," Tymoshenko explained. She hesitated briefly before adding, "And if my assessment is correct, after this incident, the President will likely remove Lazarenko from his position. This is something Mr. Westeros would prefer to see, isn't it?"
Celia neither confirmed nor denied. "If that's the case, Ms. Tymoshenko, what kind of sincerity are you offering to join the Westeros system?"
"I would like to discuss that directly with Mr. Westeros in person," Tymoshenko replied.
Celia looked at the stunning woman before her, whose charm aligned perfectly with Simon's tastes, and immediately understood what kind of "sincerity" Tymoshenko intended to offer. Celia shrugged lightly. "Ms. Tymoshenko, if meeting Simon in person is your sincerity, I can pass along your request. But to be honest, the chances of you meeting him are slim."
Tymoshenko remained composed, her tone earnest. "Ms. Miller, could you contact Mr. Westeros now? I'm willing to start by speaking with him over the phone."
"That won't be possible right now, Ms. Tymoshenko. Perhaps you've forgotten about the time difference. It's the middle of the night in the United States. I'll give you an answer this afternoon."
With that, Celia rose from her seat, signaling that the meeting was over.
Tymoshenko, however, didn't move. She said, "Celia, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay here as a guest. I'm just a woman, so there shouldn't be any problem. I've already sent my driver away."
Celia remained firm, gesturing toward the door. "Ms. Tymoshenko, Simon values his privacy deeply. This is a private estate, and no one—not even a woman—is allowed to stay without permission. There's a driver available who can take you anywhere you'd like to go."
Tymoshenko tried one last time. "I won't wander around. I can just stay here, in this study."
"I'm sorry," Celia said firmly. "Please, Ms. Tymoshenko. Let's not make this unpleasant."
Seeing Celia's unwavering stance, Tymoshenko finally stood up and said, "I've reserved an apartment at the hot spring resort nearby. I'll be staying there for the next few days. Ms. Miller, I hope to hear good news from you soon."
"Of course. I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
After seeing Tymoshenko off, Celia calculated the time. It was still the middle of the night in both the US East and West Coasts, so she decided to wait until the afternoon to contact North America.
Later, Celia joined Emily and the estate's housekeeper, Marta, in the villa's dining room for breakfast. As she ordered from the staff, a thought crossed her mind. She turned to Marta. "I haven't seen Natalia Banshikova since I arrived. Where is she?"
Natalia Banshikova was the mother of two of the estate's younger residents, Galina and Eva Banshikova.
When Celia first learned about this mother-daughter trio, she found Simon's indulgence absurd. Now, with the daughters still present but the mother absent, her curiosity was piqued.
Marta replied, "Natalia went to London. Mrs. Westeros personally arranged for her to help Shurshikina and Antonenko manage Simon's properties there."
Marta spoke with a mix of envy and regret.
It was hard to imagine what Natalia, who lacked her daughters' charm, could accomplish in London. Likely nothing more than cleaning rooms and serving tea. Marta couldn't help but think it was a waste—she would have loved the opportunity to move to a major city like London.
Celia immediately understood.
The arrangement was likely Janet's way of quietly resolving a delicate situation. With so many women around, gossip was inevitable. If Celia were in Janet's position, she would have made similar decisions. Simon's romantic escapades never caused any major disruptions, thanks in no small part to Janet's management from their Dume Cape estate.
This level of meticulous care, Celia thought, was likely one of the reasons Janet's position as Simon's wife remained unshakable.
Meanwhile, Tymoshenko, who had been driven back to the resort hotel by the estate's chauffeur, wasted no time contacting Lazarenko. She sought information on the progress of the investigation into Sherban's assassination but didn't mention her meeting with Celia in detail. Instead, she danced around the topic while glean
ing the information she needed.
According to Lazarenko, their chosen scapegoats had already been arrested by the special investigation team in Donetsk. Efforts were underway to manage the fallout and negotiate with the Donetsk faction. After all, Donetsk wasn't entirely clean either. If they pushed too hard, the lid could be blown off everything, exposing everyone's dirty laundry.
Before ending the call, Lazarenko requested $10 million, ostensibly to compensate and settle matters with the scapegoats. Tymoshenko nearly threw her phone in anger.
Such a minor issue didn't warrant such an exorbitant amount.
Yet, as they were still tied together for now, Tymoshenko reluctantly agreed.
After arranging for the funds to be transferred, Tymoshenko stepped out onto the balcony connected to her second-floor bedroom. Surrounded by evergreen pine trees and overlooking the resort's entertainment district in the distance, she contemplated her next moves.
From the moment the Sherban assassination case erupted three days ago and caught the attention of US and Russian leaders, Tymoshenko had realized that Lazarenko's downfall was inevitable.
Whether due to fears of Lazarenko threatening his position or concerns about Lazarenko's disruptive antics jeopardizing his domestic and international balancing strategy, President Kuchma would no longer tolerate Lazarenko's presence.
Although Tymoshenko had built a business empire in recent years under Lazarenko's protection, she knew her foundation remained fragile. For example, her most lucrative asset—the Ukrainian United Energy Company, which monopolized the country's gas supply—would become an immediate target for other political and business forces once Lazarenko was gone. She lacked the strength to fend them off.
Without the steady cash flow from the energy company, her other ventures, which were still in their infancy, would also collapse.
She needed a new patron—and fast.
The Rivne group, or more accurately, the Westeros system behind it, had demonstrated immense power during this crisis. Tymoshenko had set her sights on Simon Westeros.
If she could align herself with this man, all her problems would disappear.
Moreover, based on her research, she was confident that she fit Simon's preferences perfectly. Tymoshenko believed that once she met him, she had a 100% chance of convincing him to support her. With his backing, she could aim to become Ukraine's true queen—not just the so-called "Gas Princess."
This was the real reason she had come to Rivne.
After reexamining her plans, Tymoshenko exhaled in the chilly wind and turned to head downstairs. She decided to relax with a drink in the entertainment district.
On the way out, her assistant arranged for two bodyguards to accompany her. Tymoshenko hesitated but didn't refuse. Her security team was equivalent to a military platoon, composed of former Soviet special forces. This was a necessity given the rampant assassination attempts in Ukraine in recent years. Just a few months ago, Lazarenko had narrowly escaped a car bomb. Tymoshenko herself had faced similar threats.
The late Yevhen Sherban, riddled with bullets last weekend, was just the latest unfortunate victim.
By evening, Tymoshenko had yet to receive a response from Celia Miller. Sensing something was amiss, she tried to get Celia's contact information but couldn't. Instead, she reached out to Sergey Komarov, whose reply chilled her to the bone.
Celia Miller had left for North America that very afternoon.
That b****!
Furious and panicked, Tymoshenko considered rushing back to the estate but was intercepted by Andrei Smirnov, the resort manager. He handed her a letter from Celia, which had been left earlier in the day. Opening it on the spot, she found a single line scrawled in hasty Russian:
—The boss says you lack sincerity. No meeting.
Her heart sank.
Smirnov waited a moment before asking, "Ms. Tymoshenko, if there's nothing else, may I leave now?"
Tymoshenko forced herself to remain composed and asked, "When was this letter delivered?"
"Around 3 PM. Ms. Miller instructed me to hand it to you at 6 PM."
Tymoshenko nodded and fell silent.
She replayed the morning meeting with Celia in her mind and realized her mistake. She should have prepared a proposal demonstrating her sincerity rather than showing up empty-handed and demanding to see Simon. If only she had done that, she might have secured much more in return.
Fuming, she couldn't help but blame Celia. If that woman had given her even a slight nudge, she might have understood. Why hadn't Celia offered more guidance?
What now?
Fly to North America?
Setting aside the uncertainty of whether she could meet Simon, the current political turmoil in Ukraine made leaving the country risky. Without Simon's explicit support, she couldn't afford to be away. Who knew what would happen in her absence?
As for the Rivne group, figures like Sergey Komarov, Klim Derevyanko, and Vladimir Kolkoshko were powerful as a collective. But none of them held ultimate authority. It was evident that Simon Westeros had no intention of elevating a single leader in the region—not even Celia Miller, who was merely his proxy.
Real power rested with the young man who stood above them all.
Thus, negotiating with Rivne's leaders would yield no meaningful results.
In hindsight, her morning meeting with Celia had likely been her best chance to establish a connection with Simon.
But now, that opportunity was gone.
All because of that detestable woman. Celia must have done it on purpose, unwilling to let her get close to Simon Westeros.
Although seething with anger, Tymoshenko gradually calmed down. Resigned to reality, she quickly left Rivne and returned to Kyiv.
Since she hadn't secured Simon Westeros as her patron, she had no choice but to maintain her alliance with Lazarenko for now—whether she liked it or not. At the same time, she needed to start exploring other potential allies.
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