I would be writing on Irina's POV. Do you think there's a reason for her persistence to win Vladimir back? Or is she just still in love with him? Keep reading…(smiles )
The crystal chandeliers in the grand ballroom at Igor’s Presidential Hotel—yes, they had a hotel—gave the room a dim, sophisticated glow. The strings of the violin and cello from the live band added life to the room.Ayala could hear the soft and delicate hum of ongoing conversations, the clicking of glasses and rich laughter filled the room.Ayala took a deep breath before fully stepping in.The atmosphere was familiar, it reminded her of the galas she attended in her father’s company, before everything changed.She had been hesitant to attend the gala, but as Vladimir’s secretary, it was expected. The invitation had arrived with a note in his precise handwriting: “Your presence is requested. Dress appropriately.” Like she would have dressed anything but appropriately. Typical Vladimir.Her hair was styled in a low sleek chignon. Her dress was a custom Elie Saab Haute Couture gown in midnight-blue silk crepe, tailored to hug her figure like second skin, which she had gotten last fal
IRINA’S POVIrina adjusted her coat collar as she stood before the tall glass windows of her penthouse. Below, the city pulsed with purpose and ambition — not unlike herself. It was a strange morning. Quiet, heavy. The kind of day that whispered old names into your ear and dragged up feelings you swore were buried. Vladimir.She’d seen him two days ago, unplanned. Unintended. She’d only stopped by Igor’s Inc. to drop off a client proposal, under the pretense of business, of course. But what she’d really wanted was to see him. The man who had once ruled her world, the man she’d learned to shape herself around, and ultimately, the man she’d failed to keep.Irina made a conviction to herself, she wasn't going to fail.She pulled her phone closer and tapped into her father’s company projections. Disappointing. Growth had slowed. Investors were asking questions. Whispers of instability hovered. And it all pointed to one thing: her father’s empire needed reinforcement. Solid allies. And the
My office had an oppressive silence, just how I preferred it. The kind of silence that made the mere falling of my pen seem like a boulder noise. It was the best silence to work in. The workload was immense, but this is why my dad chose me to do it; he knew I could handle it. I took my time to go through our previous dealings, revenue, competitors, rise of stocks in the market, and very carefully so as not to miss anything. While Igor’s Inc. seemed like the dream perfect company on the outside, a lot had to be done to cover our tracks, and lots of hands had to be buttered to prevent investigations. We had well-oiled business operations — some public, many decidedly not — kept me constantly on edge. Balancing the official business with the underground operations demanded maximum attention. One wrong step, and it could all come crashing down.Then came the knock. The last thing I needed.Irina didn’t wait for permission — she never did. Her heels clicked sharply as she entered, her pr
AYALAThe office was very quiet, so much that you could hear the drop of a pin. Everyone seemed to be caught up in what they were doing. Well, this was expected for a place like Igor’s Inc. Everyone was in their cubicle, moving with purpose and precision. I had barely been at my new desk for an hour before the weight of the job truly sank in. This wasn’t just any secretary position, it was combined with that of a personal assistant, it was a job in which perfection was expected, where every detail mattered. It was also a chance to prove myself.I sat at my desk, in the ergonomic chair. I was surprised a chair of this kind was given to a PA secretary and a PA. I could not help but be anxious, my every thought spun back and forth to what was expected of me. However, the office…It was a beautiful office — sleek, white walls with minimalist art that hinted at the taste of whoever designed it. A small plant sat in the corner, adding a breath of life to the otherwise sterile environment. Th
AYALAIt was finally the day of my interview and I was drop-dead nervous, I tried to beat my reputation of always being late and make it before the time scheduled for the interview, which was 8:30 and it was so hard doing this. I managed to be there by 7:45 to see 14 people already waiting, making me the 15…ugh, people just have to be so punctual.The interview started at 8:30 prompt, and it was obvious that time was really of key importance to the firm. The assistant secretary came out and let the first 20 further, promising the numbers that fell below that of the 20th that they would get a mail, I couldn't be happier for my punctuality at this.The people beside me all seemed to be of middle class standards in the society and the all looked really prepared with made me more anxious than ever, I didn't want to lose this. The first person went in and came out in no time, so did the the next five after him and it made me genuinely scared, the interviewer must be brutal I thought becaus
AYALAAfter the worldwide announcement of Papa’s company declaring bankruptcy, I decided to stay off social media. I wasn’t the type of rich of Lily-Rose Deep, Blue Ivy Carter, Blake Lively, etc whose parents’ influence had a kick start in their wealth and influence giving them the “no baby“ title. I and my friends failed to see them as the truly rich, this of course came with envy on our path because while we were trained to take over large empires and advised to stay off the media's eyes, they had the liberty to literally run into the media.I logged into my Instagram and so a ton of messages from my old friends asking if I was good and if I needed money or a place to stay. Now, this is the reason I decided to stay off the internet, we declared bankruptcy and not that; we are currently living on the streets, I sigh at this thought.Though I am touched by their niceness, I needed none of it, sitting around reminiscing the old times doesn't help one bit, and looking daily at all my d
VLADIMIR “Izbav'tes' ot tela, ono mne zdes' bol'she ne nuzhno( get this body out of here, I don't want to have it here any longer”, I said as I spat at the corpse, turning to clean my hand with the towel that had just been handed to me.My phone rings and the caller is my dad, I hate two things; Badly done work and phone calls, particularly phone calls from my dad. “You have to get back to New York “ came the gruff voice from over the phone. “No” I replied undeterred. “You know what you did,” he said. The sudden realization that he may have figured out what I have done, took a cool on my obstinance. His figuring out is an indication of another badly done work and that's something I can't tolerate.I called my pilot to ensure the plane was ready, then headed to my house to dismiss my staffs. I had told the driver back home to take my latest car purchase to the family’s hangar at John F Kennedy Airport.I was welcomed with fairly humid weather, it was approaching summer so this was ty
We have the rich and we have the wealthy, and Manhattan isn't referred to as the playground of billionaires for nothing. From frivolous shopping sprees to overpriced boarding houses, exclusive country clubs, and bratty kids acting up to be on the tabloids, Manhattan had them all…“Excuse me miss, please can you insert your pin? “ said the red-haired girl to Ayala with growing impatience for the third time.“Oh, I'm so sorry “ came Ayala’s reply as she put in her pin, carried the cosmetics she just got, and rushed out of the drug store.Never would she have thought herself to be in a place like this, her friends and her usually scrunched their noses at the sight of it and would rather have a hand chopped off than be caught dead in a place like that. But sadly, this had become her reality. She kept a reasonable distance from the store while holding the leather containing her purchase with both disgust and anger. She missed shopping at her favorite cosmetic brands; L’oreal, Fenty, Rare