April 15, 1993 – Leningrad, Nevsky Prospect
The building was modest by any standard.
A single storefront on a side street off Nevsky Prospect, wedged between a bakery that sold bread at prices that changed daily and an electronics shop that had been boarded up for months. The sign above the door was new, brass, freshly polished: Neva Bank – Established 1993.
Inside, the space was small but clean. A counter with two teller stations. A manager's desk in the corner. A door leading to a back office and a small vault that Kolya had personally reinforced. The walls were painted a neutral beige, the floors newly tiled, the whole effect intentionally unremarkable.
Alexei stood in the center of it all, watching his team prepare for the grand opening. Lebedev was reviewing documents at the manager's desk. Irina, the branch manager they had hired—a woman in her forties with fifteen years of experience at Gosbank—was training the two tellers. Ivan stood by the door, a silent presence that would become permanent.
It was not impressive. It was not the kind of bank that would make headlines or attract oligarchs. It was exactly what Alexei wanted: a small, quiet, functional bank that would serve his companies and a few carefully chosen customers.
Lebedev looked up from his papers. "The capital transfer is complete. One million dollars, registered with the Central Bank. The license is on the wall. We're legal."
"Legal enough."
"Legal enough is all we need."
At 10 AM, the doors opened. The first customer was an old woman from the neighborhood, there to deposit her pension—a few thousand rubles that would be worthless in weeks. The teller handled the transaction professionally, recording the deposit in the new computer system that Kolya's team had installed.
By noon, they had twelve depositors. By closing, twenty-three. Total deposits: just over four million rubles—about eight thousand dollars at the current exchange rate, less tomorrow. But it was a start.
When the last customer left, Alexei gathered his small team in the back office. Lebedev, Irina, the two tellers, and Ivan standing by the door.
"Today was good," Alexei said. "But today was just the beginning. This bank exists to serve our other companies first—Neva Transport, Neva Security, our warehouses. That's the priority. Outside customers are welcome, but they're secondary."
Irina nodded, her expression professional. "And the loans?"
"Conservative. Very conservative. We lend to people we know, businesses we understand, operations we can monitor. No speculation, no gambling, no risky ventures. Slow growth, careful growth."
"That's not how most new banks operate."
"I know. That's why most new banks will fail."
The team dispersed, heading home to their families. Alexei stayed, sitting alone in the small office, looking at the license on the wall. Neva Bank. His name, his vision, his future.
Ivan appeared in the doorway. "You should go home too. It's late."
"Soon."
Ivan didn't move. "This is different from the trucking company. More visible. More regulated. More risk."
"I know."
"But you're doing it anyway."
"Because we need it. The trucking company generates cash, but cash needs a home. The warehouses store goods, but goods need financing. The security team protects assets, but assets need a place to grow." Alexei looked at the license again. "This is the foundation. Everything else builds on it."
Ivan nodded slowly. "Your father would be proud."
"Or horrified. I'm not sure which."
"Probably both. He was complicated that way."
They stood in silence for a moment, two men in a small bank on a quiet street, building something that would outlast them both.
April 20, 1993 – Neva Bank, First Week Review
The numbers were modest but encouraging.
Twenty-seven depositors. Total deposits: six million rubles (approximately eleven thousand dollars). Three small loans extended: to a local baker, a taxi driver, and a small parts supplier for Neva Transport. Total loan value: two million rubles.
Lebedev reviewed the figures with satisfaction. "We're in the black. Barely. But the trend is positive."
"And the internal transfers?"
"Neva Transport has moved its operating account here. Fifty thousand dollars. Neva Security, thirty thousand. The warehouse accounts are coming next week."
Alexei nodded. The bank was working exactly as intended. Not as a profit center—yet—but as a secure home for their money, a tool for managing their growing empire.
"We need to think about expansion," Lebedev said. "Not immediately, but soon. A Moscow branch would give us access to the real money."
"Later. First we prove this works. Then we grow."
Lebedev nodded, gathering his papers. At the door, he paused. "You know what you've done, don't you? You've built something that didn't exist two years ago. A real company, with real assets, real employees, real future."
"I've built a start. The future is still unwritten."
"Maybe. But you're writing it."
He left. Alexei sat alone in the small office, listening to the sounds of the city outside. Trucks rumbled past. People hurried home. The old woman who had been their first customer shuffled by with her shopping bag.
Neva Bank. His bank. The foundation of everything to come.