5.

Jasmine

The four glasses of water I had chugged down make my suit trousers quite uncomfortable around my waist. But nothing is more uncomfortable than sitting by the right side of Vladimir with a system in front of me, listening to Walter give his orientation presentation. 

His hands are just a few inches away from mine on the table, but I can feel the heat radiating off him. One small slip and his fingers will brush against my skin. 

To get his coffee, to get his pen, one tiny slip. 

Fuck! 

My stomach churns violently. 

I should move my hands; I should, but if I do that, it’ll make things more awkward. 

Every thud of my heart echoes through my eardrum; the uneasiness never lessens even though I’m trying to breathe. 

I keep my eyes on Walter in his sharp vintage black suit. His dream is slowly unfolding right in front of us, his hands gesturing passionately as he speaks to the board. 

A smile forms across my lips, but it doesn’t ease the itch beside me. 

Walter’s eyes occasionally drift to me, but he tries to hide his confused expression as to why I’m seated this close to Vladimir. 

I only smile and nod at him, fighting every urge inside me that pulls me to look at the man beside me. I still feel the heat from where he had grabbed my arm earlier, and being this close to him worsens the situation. 

“And that’s why KGH is the only option that works…” Walter finalizes his speech, and everyone remains silent. 

My palms slam against each other instinctively, applauding him even though I barely heard any of it. I know he did his best, and his best is more than enough. 

He shakes his head in disagreement, everyone’s eyes darting towards me as my applause echoes through the room. 

I stop, turning to face Vladimir on instinct. 

His expression is unreadable; he’s leaning in his seat, his eyes on Walter as though he’s contemplating what to say, or maybe he already knows.

The silence stretches uncomfortably for almost a minute before he finally speaks. 

“Mr Stilinski…” 

“Yes, sir…” Walter responds immediately, his eyes wide open, thumb scratching against his index finger like he always does when he’s anxious. 

Vladimir doesn’t shift in his seat; he just keeps his eyes on Walter. 

“Your numbers are wildly optimistic, your backup plan assumes nothing will ever go wrong, and your third-quarter goals read like a fantasy novel rather than a real business strategy.” 

I thought the room was silent, but after that comment, I don’t hear the AC anymore. 

Colours drain from Walter’s face; I can practically see his heart shattering behind his ribcage, his posture stiffening as he prepares for a lethal rejection. 

Next to me, Vladimir’s presence feels like a crushing weight, completely unbothered by the sudden drop in the room’s temperature. 

I can’t help but wonder… 

Is this why he wanted me in the meeting? So he gets to shut Walter down in front of me? To crush his dreams, our dreams like it means nothing and all he has to do is breathe.

“However…” Vladimir’s deep, authoritative voice cuts through the stillness. “Your execution plan for acquisition is relentless. And I respect ambition over caution every day of the week.” 

A slow, terrifyingly calm expression settles over his face. 

“Congratulations, Mr Stilinski, I’m sold.” 

Ah, Jesus… a breathless gasp slips past me, and the room erupts in unending applause. 

The biggest smile widens Walter’s lips, and it's only a few times he gets this happy, to the point where he can’t hold back and smile with his eyes. 

No further conversation; everyone picks up their files ready to leave. I don’t take my eyes away from Walter as everyone shakes his hand, filing out of the room. 

“You were on fire, congratulations…” 

“Thank you.” 

“Can’t wait to work with you…”

“Thank you.” 

My eyes soften, my heart melting in my chest. 

Look at him… 

He looks like he belongs here without even trying. 

Almost immediately, the ache in my chest resumes, my fingers twitching as that image flashes in my mind again. 

Me sitting on Vladimir's lap, his hands firmly on my waist. 

I have to make this right… I can’t live like this. I can’t do this to Walter. 

Walter finally turns to me, smiling as though we’ve both achieved our dreams; he doesn’t stretch his hand out; he gestures with his head, calling for me. The day had ended, and it was time to go home, but my heart has never felt heavier. 

I rise to my feet and walk to him, but I stop just before we can make contact. 

“I’ll meet you in the car; wait for me…” I say before nodding at him.

“Okay,” he mouths, turning to leave without asking a single question. 

I stand by the door, making sure everyone is gone before I can make a move. 

Exhaling, I try to gather my courage with strangling guilt. 

I finally turn to face Vladimr, and he has his back to me, standing far off at the other end of the room, looking at the open view of New York City below him. 

“That night was a mistake… I was mostly tipsy. Mostly drunk for the whole of it; it means nothing.” I start. 

He turns to face me, completely unbothered. 

“I know.” He responds as he begins to walk towards me. 

Something inside me shifts for a second. He isn’t denying it, nor dismissing me. So I carry on. 

“You’re married to my Mother, and I’m with Walter… as you know. I don’t want this hanging over our heads. It was a mistake…” I breathe, the air becoming thick as he stops in front of me and then leans against the edge of the table, just watching me. 

My knees weaken. 

“Jasmine…” 

Shit. 

My body reacts the wrong way, but I hold his gaze. 

“I thought not talking about it was an indication of how little it mattered to me. Obviously you didn’t pick up, and that’s why we’re having this conversation…” he exclaims. 

Like a bullet to the chest, my eyes twitch. 

Fucking asshole. 

“I lost my virginity to you… and you say it meant nothing?” I snap, probably shouldn’t have, but I did. 

“You came into my room, remember? Oh, that’s right, you were tipsy,” he says, his tone shifting into mockery at the last word. 

“I can’t stand you… I’m repulsed by you. You arrogant, self-centered… Fuck!” I bark at him, unable to control myself. 

He remains silent, but that stings more than it should have. 

“I’m resigning. I didn’t apply to be your Personal assistant…” The words slip out of me in a fit of rage. I haven’t thought through it, but right now I don’t care. 

“Okay. I’m sure you saw the termination clause in your contract. We need a two weeks' notice before you leave.” 

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this… my anger takes the better of me, and I close the distance between us. 

“Fine, two weeks and I’m done.” I snap.

“Sure.” 

One word to my paranoia. It’s how unfazed he is that upsets me. 

My gaze lowers for just a second, and that's when my body freezes. 

I’m standing between his thighs, no space between us. His palms are pressed tightly against the table, his grip so firm I see the veins bulging from his arms, his knuckles white. 

Restraint in its purest form. 

My heart loses its rhythm, heat shooting up my spine. 

My eyes move back to his, and his gaze lowers to my lips.