MR ZILLIONAIRE’S ROAD TO REVENGE

Not As Planned

Chapter Two

Nikolai stood there, his mind racing as he tried to process the situation.

"Under arrest?" The words echoed in his head. Confusion swept over him like a tidal wave. Why were the police arresting him? He wasn’t the one behind the wheel last night—Olivia was. Yet, here they were, accusing him of murder. His jaw tightened as his thoughts spiraled. Was this some kind of mistake?

“I don’t get what you mean, officers," he said finally, forcing himself to stay composed. "Under arrest? What murder?” His voice carried a mix of confusion and authority, as though trying to remind them who they were dealing with.

The lead officer stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “Last night at approximately 7 p.m., there was a hit-and-run incident. The victim, Jose Williams, was struck and killed by an Audi R8 that intentionally ran him over. My team has conducted a thorough investigation. The tire marks and the license plate both match your vehicle, Mr. Ivanov.”

The explanation hit Nikolai like a hammer to the chest. His sharp mind worked through the puzzle in a split second—Olivia had used his car last night. The implications were crystal clear. They hadn’t tracked her down; they’d tracked him.

“There’s probably been a mistake,” he said, his voice calm but with a growing edge of tension.

“No mistake,” the officer replied flatly. “We also received a call from an anonymous witness claiming they saw you at the scene of the crime last night.”

Nikolai’s brow furrowed deeply. An anonymous witness? That was impossible. He hadn’t left the house at all yesterday evening. His alibi was airtight—if he told the truth. But as the realization hit him, a wave of dread washed over him. If he cleared his name, Olivia would take the fall.

He clenched his jaw tightly. His options were clear, but none of them were good. His mind screamed at him to protect himself, but his heart overruled. He glanced sideways at Olivia, her face pale and streaked with tears, her hands trembling.

“Obviously, there’s a misunderstanding here,” Nikolai started to say. “I was at ho—” He stopped himself mid-sentence. His words hung in the air, unspoken.

He took a deep breath, rubbed the back of his neck, and met Olivia’s wide, tearful eyes. Grasping her hands firmly in his, he whispered, “Everything will be okay.” His voice was steady, but the promise carried a weight only he understood.

“Why don’t you explain yourself at the station, Mr. Ivanov?” the officer said curtly, stepping forward with handcuffs in hand.

The cold steel cuffs locked around Nikolai’s wrists, the click echoing like a death knell in the silent lobby.

At that moment, the elevator dinged, and a man stepped out. He was identical to Nikolai in every way—except for the expression of shock and anger now plastered across his face.

Mikhail Ivanov, Nikolai’s twin brother, strode across the lobby, his voice booming. “Nikolai, what is going on here?”

Nikolai turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting Mikhail’s. “Call the lawyer,” he said firmly, his voice a mixture of command and resignation.

The officers began guiding Nikolai toward the door, their firm grips on his arms. Olivia stood frozen in place, her hands covering her mouth as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. She watched the man she loved—the man who had just sacrificed himself for her—being led away like a criminal.

Her legs trembled, but she forced herself into motion, fumbling for her phone. With shaky hands, she dialed their lawyer, Jeff. “He’s been arrested,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “We need to get to the station. Now.”

The ride to the police station was tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Nikolai stared out the window, his mind working overtime to figure out his next move. He wasn’t the kind of man to sit back and let things spiral out of control. But this wasn’t just about him—it was about Olivia. And for her, he’d take the fall.

They arrived at the station in what felt like no time at all. Nikolai was led into an interrogation room, the sound of the door closing behind him like a final punctuation mark to a long, sleepless night.

He didn’t have to wait long before the door opened again. A man in his late fifties, with a gruff demeanor and a slightly weary expression, stepped in. It was Captain Lawson, a man Nikolai had crossed paths with more than once.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Ivanov,” Lawson said, extending his hand.

Nikolai smirked faintly as he shook the captain’s hand. “Good to see you too, Captain,” he replied, his tone measured. “I’m guessing you’re already taking care of the situation?”

The implication in his words was clear. Nikolai Ivanov wasn’t just any man; he was a man with power, connections, and influence.

Lawson opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, the door swung open again. Two men in dark suits stepped in, their expressions unreadable.

“Captain Lawson, FBI,” one of them said, flashing his badge.

Lawson’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s the FBI doing at our department?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“We’re taking over this case,” the second agent replied, his voice cold and authoritative.

Nikolai’s gaze shifted between the two agents, his confusion mirroring Lawson’s. Why would the FBI be involved in a local hit-and-run case?

“What does the Bureau have to do with this?” Lawson pressed, his irritation evident.

“That’s classified for now,” the first agent said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Well he’s not leaving my custody until I see a reason.” The captain replied

“The victim that was killed last night Jose Williams, was one of our guys.” The agent replied.

The attention of the two agents immediately turned to Nikolai. One of them, a tall man with a sharp jawline and piercing eyes, stepped closer, a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

“You thought you could slide your way out of this mess, didn’t you?” he said, his voice cutting through the room like a knife.

A tense silence filled the air as everyone processed the revelation. Nikolai, who had prided himself on staying composed even in the most challenging situations, felt fear creeping into his expression. For the first time.

This wasn’t just a hit-and-run anymore. It wasn’t a situation he could sweep under the rug with a few phone calls or bribes. This was federal territory, a place where his influence, wealth, and connections carried little to no weight.

The male agent folded his arms across his chest breaking the silence “ as of now, this case is no longer within your jurisdiction, Captain. We’re taking him with us.”

Nikolai turned to the captain. For years, he had cultivated relationships and influence that had kept him untouchable in this city. But now, with the Feds involved, that safety net had been ripped away. He locked eyes with Captain Lawson, silently pleading for a lifeline, but the captain’s expression told him everything he needed to know.

This was out of his hands.

One of the agents stepped forward and gestured for Nikolai to stand. “Let’s go,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Nikolai rose slowly, his movements deliberate as he tried to suppress the turmoil brewing inside him. The cuffs clinked faintly against the table as the agents secured his hands once more and began leading him out of the room.

As they moved through the station, Nikolai’s sharp eyes scanned his surroundings. He spotted Mikhail and Olivia waiting anxiously just outside the interrogation area. Mikhail’s face was a mix of confusion and frustration, while Olivia’s pale features betrayed her fear.

The moment they saw Nikolai being escorted by the agents, Olivia stepped forward, her voice trembling. “What’s going on? Who are these people? Why are they taking you?”

Nikolai paused briefly, turning his head to look at her. He forced a reassuring expression, though his eyes hinted at the storm raging inside. “Call Jeff,” he said firmly, referring to their lawyer. “This is serious. Make sure he’s on top of everything.”

“But—” Olivia started, her voice breaking as she reached out toward him.

“Olivia.” His tone was sharper now, cutting off her protests. “Do what I said.”

“There’s no time to explain right now,” Nikolai replied quickly, glancing at the agents, who were growing impatient. “Just trust me and make the calls.”

Olivia’s hand fell to her side, and she nodded hesitantly. Mikhail, though clearly dissatisfied with the lack of answers, gave a curt nod as well.

The agents ushered him into a black SUV, its tinted windows hiding the conversation that was going on inside. As the door shut behind him, Nikolai leaned back against the seat.

For years, he had been in control—of his life, his company, and his destiny. Now, for the first time, he felt like a pawn in someone else’s game.

And he hated it.