My Future Wife

The sound of footsteps echoed rhythmically, thumping against the floor covered in a luxurious Mediterranean-patterned carpet. Casually, Kaivan entered the VIP elevator, the bouncing of each step matching the expensive decor. Upon exiting, Mike, his assistant, was already there to greet him. Mike assisted in carrying the work bag that Kaivan had been holding in his left hand.

"What's on my schedule for today?" the man inquired as he walked leisurely towards his office.

"As usual, weekends are typically clear, Sir. But there's Mr. Hans Ulrich waiting in your office. He's been there for the past 30 minutes," Mike replied.

Quickly, Kaivan increased his pace. Upon entering the room, he approached Hans, who was sitting comfortably on the guest sofa. Kaivan asked his assistant to leave so that he and Hans could converse freely.

"Any recent updates?"

Hans closed the business magazine he had been reading. "There are a few pieces of information I'd like to share."

"And this time, about what?"

"