The entire team gathered to bid farewell to Georgy Mikhailovich Klimov. Attendance at the funeral was universal—drivers, mechanics, and dispatchers—almost all company employees came to pay their respects to their leader. Vera Anatolyevna stood firmly clutching a black handkerchief, her gaze fixed thoughtfully into the distance.
To her left was her younger son Pavel, quietly sobbing with reddened eyes. To her right stood the elder son Alexei, tall and composed, his face hard and jaw clenched tightly.
“Stay strong, Mom,” Alexei whispered gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Things will be different now.”
At the time, overwhelmed by grief, Vera barely registered his words. Georgy’s passing was sudden—a heart failure right at his desk. Only yesterday they discussed holiday plans, yet now, she was left alone. It felt as though the world had flipped instantly, the sun that once warmed her slipping beyond the horizon forever.
One month passed. Vera found herself seated in her late husband’s office—now hers—sorting through papers. The door’s plaque had changed to: “General Director V.A. Klimova.” Doubts circled around her capability. Georgy had founded ‘SeveroTrans’ two decades earlier when the transportation industry was just emerging in the country. They started small—with three worn Gazelle trucks—and today it had grown into a reputable company boasting a fleet of forty vehicles and contracts spanning the entire region.
She softly traced the smooth oak desk’s surface, recalling how many times she brought meals to her husband, who often forgot to eat while engrossed in work. They had spent many evenings side by side, poring over numbers and plans. “I will manage, Zhora,” she silently promised. “No matter the cost, I will succeed.”
The door opened abruptly. Alexei, the commercial director and elder son, walked in carrying a folder of documents. His confident, springy stride reminded Vera of her husband’s youthful gait.
“Mom, I’ve reached an agreement with the Severtsevs. They are willing to increase volumes but demand a ten percent price reduction,” he said, carelessly dropping the folder on the desk.
“No, Alyosha. We’re already operating nearly at breakeven. We can’t afford to lower prices,” Vera answered firmly, yet calmly.
“But this is a new market,” Alexei’s tone sharpened, irritation flashing in his gray eyes. “Sometimes sacrifices are necessary for growth. Dad would have understood.”
“Dad never worked at a loss,” she asserted, folding her hands. “Nor should we.”
Alexei winced as if in pain.
- “Mom, respectfully, you’re only an economist on paper, not in practice. You were a homemaker for twenty years and now try to lead a business. It isn’t the same as baking pies.”
Vera quietly placed her pen down. A fleeting desire arose to remind him that she managed the company’s accounting from day one and graduated with honors from a financial academy before dedicating herself to family. Instead, she replied:
“Yes, I devoted twenty years to our family while simultaneously handling all the company’s documentation. Dad never made decisions without consulting me.”
Alexei scoffed and left, slamming the door—a sound echoing through her heart as it once did when Georgy expressed dissatisfaction.
That evening, Vera sat alone in the kitchen sipping cold tea, her body weighed down with fatigue and thoughts slow to flow. The doorbell rang. Pavel appeared, carrying a bag of groceries; his chestnut hair tousled slightly and care sparkled in his eyes.
“You haven’t eaten, have you?” Pavel smiled as he removed his jacket. “I knew it.”
He prepared a simple yet delicious dinner, frying potatoes with mushrooms—Vera’s childhood favorite. While cooking, Pavel tidied the sink and wiped the countertops. Unlike his father and brother, he was attentive to details.
Vera watched quietly as her son washed dishes. Soft-spoken, with brown eyes tinged with gentle melancholia, he taught history at a regular school. Not a businessman or strategist, but a genuinely kind person.
“How’s work?” Vera asked as she began to eat.
“It’s usual,” Pavel replied, placing a glass of fresh compote in front of her. “My 11th graders are preparing for exams, nervous as ever. And how about you? Is Alexei being too forceful?”
Vera sighed deeply.
“Your brother thinks he knows better. Maybe he does. He has worked here since he was eighteen.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Mom,” Pavel said, stroking her hand. “You’ve always been smarter than you let on. You just let Dad and Alexei feel like they’re in charge.”
Time passed. Despite initial skepticism, under Vera’s guidance, SeveroTrans did not falter; instead, the company began to make steady progress. She avoided rash decisions, methodically upgrading the fleet, finding new clients, and caring for the team. It wasn’t a rapid ascent but a confident, stable forward movement.
Meanwhile, Alexei grew increasingly frustrated. His expensive car would screech to a halt each morning at the office entrance as he stormed through hallways, leaving behind a trail of luxury cologne and dissatisfaction. He had always seen his mother as a housewife, not a competitor. Each day, he presented her with new ideas—some she accepted, others rejected.
“Training old drivers is pointless,” he argued impatiently, tapping fingers on the desk. “We should hire young ones; they already know everything and cost less.”
“Our drivers have been with us for ten to fifteen years. They know every client and route. They are our foundation,” Vera responded while looking out the window at lively conversations among drivers in the parking lot.
“But they drink, fall ill, and demand raises,” Alexei countered. “Business is tough, Mom. I don’t understand why you treat it like a refuge for everyone.”
Their relationship grew tenser. Once, in the office corridor, Alexei encountered Pavel visiting their mother.
“Oh, the history teacher stopped by? Checking how Mom ruins Dad’s legacy?” Alexei sneered, eyeing Pavel’s modest sweater and inexpensive pants.
“Just making sure you aren’t overwhelming her with your ‘brilliant’ ideas,” Pavel replied calmly, adjusting his glasses.
“She doesn’t belong here,” Alexei snapped, fixing his perfectly tied tie. “This company should be mine. I know how to triple its profits.”
“By firing half the staff?” Pavel raised an eyebrow. “Being a good leader isn’t only about chasing profits. Dad understood that.”
“Let’s not talk about Dad,” Alexei grimaced. “You and he are idealistic dreamers without ambition.”
Pavel simply smiled, but something in his look silenced Alexei, who hurried away.
“True business leadership balances profit with respect for people’s legacy.”
On the eve of her sixtieth birthday, Vera gathered her sons for a family dinner. The table bore her signature dishes: pies, aspic, salads—just like old times when the family was whole. The soft candlelight illuminated familiar faces, evoking a nostalgic melancholy.
“I have an announcement,” Vera said as everyone settled. “I’ve decided to gradually hand over the business. Age catches up, and the office feels empty without Georgy.”
Alexei’s eyes gleamed. He raised his glass; the amber hue of cognac sparkled in the crystal.
“Good news, Mom! I’ve already prepared a development plan: opening branches in three cities, modernizing the fleet, optimizing staff…” His voice rang with excitement.
“Optimization?” Vera questioned, sipping mineral water.
“Yes, we need to cut the excess,” Alexei rushed on as if fearing interruption. “Many drivers are getting old, and some dispatchers can’t master new technologies. We’ll reduce expenses by nearly a third!”
Vera looked steadily at her eldest son.
“These people worked with Dad. Some still repay loans; many have children studying…”
“Business isn’t charity, Mom,” Alexei cut her off sharply, a chill flashing in his eyes. “You’ve played the kind boss too long, and that’s why the company is stagnant.”
Pavel watched in silence, shrugging slightly, a faint crease appearing between his brows.
The following day, Vera arrived at the office and saw Alexei sprawled in her chair, phone pressed to his ear.
“Of course, I make decisions now. Mom is leaving next month… New terms? They’re negotiable.”
Concealing her emotions, Vera exited quietly, feeling a shiver down her spine. Something in his tone unsettled her.
Later that evening, passing his office, she overheard Alexei speaking to his wife on the phone:
“I’ve already picked new furniture for Mom’s office. We’ll get rid of all that 90s junk… And sell her car since she no longer needs it. The money will go toward the renovation of our summer house.”
Something inside Vera broke. At home, she retrieved an old photo of her husband from the desk drawer. Georgy beamed broadly and openly—just as only he could.
“What do we do now, Zhora?” she asked softly. “Our boy only sees money and power, not people.”
The answer came unexpectedly. The next day, visiting Pavel’s school, Vera observed her son enthusiastically teaching students. His patience and passion captivated even the most unruly kids. His face glowed as he spoke of ancient civilizations as if he had witnessed them firsthand.
Back at the office, she summoned a lawyer.
That Sunday evening, the brothers reunited at Vera’s apartment. Outside, a gentle rain tapped the eaves, creating a cozy atmosphere.
Alexei arrived with a box of fine cognac, radiating excitement and confidence. The scent of luxury cologne and his victorious demeanor filled the room. He patronizingly patted Pavel on the shoulder.
“So, teacher, how are your slackers? Still dreaming of changing the world with stories about Ancient Rome?” He laughed, flashing perfect teeth. “When I take charge, maybe I’ll give you some cash for a new suit. After all, you’re my brother.”
Pavel smiled quietly, helping mother set the table. His calm assurance contrasted sharply with Alexei’s noisy arrogance.
After dinner, Vera produced a folder of documents.
“Son,” she addressed Alexei, “I want to make an official announcement.”
“Finally!” Alexei beamed, reaching eagerly for the papers. For years, he awaited this triumphant moment. “I’m ready to take responsibility for SeveroTrans.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ve already transferred ownership—but not to you,” Vera said calmly. A heavy silence filled the room.
Alexei froze, unable to bring the glass to his lips. Pavel’s surprised glance revealed confusion.
“Is this a joke?” Alexei’s voice cracked, his face draining of color. “Then to whom?”
“To Pavel,” Vera replied warmly, looking at her younger son. “Forgive the suddenness. But for the past three years, you’ve studied management remotely while working at the school. For the last six months, you’ve been coming to the office in the evenings, reviewing documents.”
Pavel nodded slowly, cheeks flushed. Alexei shifted his gaze between his mother and brother, refusing to believe what he heard. His glass trembled, spilling cognac onto the pristine tablecloth.
“This is nonsense! I devoted fifteen years to this company! That bookworm will ruin Dad’s legacy! He knows nothing about logistics!”
“He won’t fire people who have been with us twenty years,” Vera responded quietly but firmly, her normally gentle voice resolute. “Nor will he speak of my chair as his while I’m still sitting in it.”
Pavel found his voice, trembling with uncertainty:
“Mom, I never asked for this. I didn’t even think…”
“I know, son. That’s why I chose you.” Vera smiled, her fatigued eyes now bright with warmth. “I’ve watched you both all these years. Alexei sees only profit and status. You see people and Dad’s legacy.”
Alexei jumped up, overturning a chair, his face twisted with anger.
“I gave fifteen years to this company! I worked hard while he lazed with his books! I deserve this position!” His roar echoed through the room.
“You earned your commercial director’s salary,” Vera replied calmly, meeting his gaze without fear. “You’ll continue receiving it if you choose to stay. But decisions now rest with Pavel.”
Alexei cast a hateful look and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glassware and sway the chandelier.
When his footsteps faded, Pavel looked confusedly at the documents before him.
“Mom, I really don’t know much. This will be difficult. I’m afraid of letting you and Dad’s memory down.”
“I’ll help you at first,” Vera said, taking his hand, feeling his anxiety. “But you already know the key: business is about people first, not numbers.”
Six months later, Vera encountered Alexei near the office. He looked gaunt and worn—the reality of starting his own venture harder than expected. His suit remained impeccable, but his eyes showed fatigue.
“So, how’s SeveroTrans?” Alexei asked bitterly. “On the brink of bankruptcy?”
“No,” Vera replied simply. She wished to embrace him but knew he would recoil. “Pavel expanded the fleet and launched training courses for young drivers. He also won back Dad’s former clients who left due to poor service.”
“Congratulations,” Alexei muttered. “Do you think I wouldn’t manage?”
“Perhaps you could,” Vera sighed, wind tousling her hair as she adjusted a silver strand. “But you’ve always seen this company as a source of money and prestige. For Pavel and me, it represents Dad’s memory and our responsibility to those who trust us.”
Alexei shrugged and walked away. Vera watched him go, contemplating life’s strange twists. In childhood, Alexei was gentle and kind, Pavel stubborn and willful. When did they switch roles?
“Maybe one day he will understand,” she thought. “True legacy cannot be measured in money.”
Later, in Pavel’s former office—once Vera’s— the phone rang.
“Pavel Georgievich? This is Severtsev,” a hesitant voice said. “I wanted to check if your decision about our cooperation stands. Your brother offered us very favorable terms.”
“Terms remain unchanged,” Pavel answered firmly, his usually soft voice carrying the same firmness Vera once had. “We value long-term relationships over quick profits.”
After hanging up, he turned to a photo of his father on the wall.
“I hope you would approve, Dad.”
And in that moment, he felt as if his father smiled back from the portrait.
Key Insight: This story reveals how a family business can survive loss and conflict when rooted in respect, shared values, and understanding that true legacy transcends financial gain.
In summary, Vera’s journey reflects the enduring strength of commitment and compassion in leadership. Through balancing family ties and business realities, the Klimov family illustrates the challenges and rewards of preserving a father’s legacy in changing times.