CHAPTER 12 ~ VICTORIA

ALEXANDRA’S POV

I quickly moved my right hand over my black computer mouse. I clicked the save icon located at the top of my digital spreadsheet to ensure my complex mathematical formulas were securely stored on the corporate server. I pushed my wide leather chair backward and stood up from my heavy oak desk. I pushed my thick black-framed glasses up the bridge of my nose and looked across the ten feet of empty space.

Maximilian held the black office telephone against his right ear. He spoke directly to the manager of a luxury Italian restaurant located on the ground floor of the corporate skyscraper. He explicitly ordered two large bowls of hot tomato soup, a basket of thick garlic bread, and two massive plates of creamy fettuccine Alfredo pasta. He placed the telephone receiver back onto the metal base and stood up from his clear glass desk.

"Walk over to the small glass table in the corner of the room, Alexandra," Maximilian instructed, pointing his large hand toward a circular table positioned near the floor-to-ceiling windows. "The restaurant staff will deliver our hot food in exactly ten minutes."

I nodded my head and walked across the dark gray carpet. I sat down on a comfortable padded chair next to the glass table. Maximilian walked over and sat down in the chair directly opposite my position. We looked out the large glass windows and watched the busy traffic moving through the cold Chicago streets below us. We sat in a comfortable, quiet silence until the heavy oak doors of the office opened.

A young waiter wearing a crisp white uniform pushed a silver metal serving cart into the massive office. He parked the cart next to our glass table. He carefully picked up the heavy white ceramic bowls of hot tomato soup and placed them perfectly on the glass surface. He set the large plates of steaming pasta and the basket of warm garlic bread between us. He poured cold water into two crystal glasses, bowed his head slightly, and walked out of the room.

I looked down at the massive plate of creamy pasta. I felt a sudden rush of deep anxiety and physical shame. David always yelled at me whenever I ate heavy carbohydrates. He constantly told me that I needed to eat small salads to reduce the size of my thick thighs and my soft stomach. I hesitated to pick up my silver fork. I looked up and stared at Maximilian's handsome face.

Maximilian picked up his own silver fork and twirled a large portion of the hot pasta around the metal prongs. He looked directly into my brown eyes. He did not judge my curvy body, and he did not monitor my food portions.

"You need to eat the pasta while it is hot, Alexandra," Maximilian said softly, taking a bite of his food and chewing slowly. "You solved a massive mathematical equation this morning. Your brain needs heavy calories to maintain that level of intense intellectual focus. Please eat your lunch."

I let out a long breath of physical relief. I picked up my silver fork and began to eat the warm, creamy pasta. The food tasted incredibly delicious. I reached forward, picked up a thick slice of warm garlic bread, and dipped the crust into my bowl of hot tomato soup. I ate the large meal comfortably while Maximilian ate his own food.

We kept our verbal conversation strictly professional while we ate our lunch. We did not discuss the traumatic events of my second anniversary, and we did not discuss our living arrangement inside his luxury penthouse. We discussed pure business. I explained the exact coding language I used to fix the target company's asset depreciation variables. Maximilian listened to my words with absolute, undivided attention. He asked me highly complex financial questions, and I provided him with direct, logical mathematical answers. I felt an immense sense of professional pride because the ruthless billionaire Chief Executive Officer genuinely respected my intelligence.

I reached forward and picked up my crystal glass to take a slow drink of cold water. I swallowed the water and set the heavy glass back down onto the table.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the private office swung violently open without a single warning knock. The loud banging sound of the wood hitting the wall startled me completely. I dropped my silver fork onto my ceramic plate.

An older woman walked directly into the center of the massive executive office. She wore a perfectly tailored, sharp gray business suit and expensive black leather heels. Her gray hair was styled flawlessly, and a thick necklace of authentic white pearls rested against her collarbone. I recognized her face immediately from the corporate financial magazines I read during my university classes. She was Victoria Volkov. She was Maximilian's mother, and she was a highly influential senior board member of Volkov Industries.

Victoria stopped walking and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. She looked directly at the glass table. She stared at my thick black-framed glasses, my navy blue pencil skirt, and my heavy curves. She looked down at the large, half-empty plate of creamy pasta resting directly in front of me. A look of absolute, unfiltered disgust appeared across her sharp facial features.

"Maximilian, what exactly is happening inside this private executive office?" Victoria demanded loudly. Her voice sounded incredibly strict and angry. "I came up here to discuss the massive corporate acquisition, and I find you sitting at a table with a messy, overweight young woman. Why are you allowing a poorly dressed, heavy intern to eat a massive plate of greasy pasta inside your professional workspace?"

I felt a sharp physical pain in my chest when I heard her cruel insult. My severe imposter syndrome and my deep body shame rushed back into my brain instantly. I felt my face turn bright red with intense humiliation. I wanted to sink completely into the floor and hide my curvy body from her harsh, judgmental eyes. I pulled my arms tightly against my stomach and looked down at my lap.

Maximilian did not yell at his mother, and he did not show any emotional panic. He reacted exactly like a ruthless corporate executive. He set his white cloth napkin down on the glass table. He stood up slowly from his padded chair and turned his tall, broad body to face the angry older woman. He placed his large hands inside his suit jacket pockets and stared at her with a completely blank, intimidating expression.

"You will lower your voice immediately, Mother," Maximilian stated in a deep, dangerously calm tone that carried absolute authority across the large room. "You will not disrespect the employees inside my building. I want to introduce you to Alexandra Petrov. She is not a junior intern. She is the newly appointed Lead Financial Analyst for the executive acquisition team."

Victoria scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes. "You promoted this heavy girl to the executive team? She does not look capable of understanding basic addition, let alone complex corporate finance."

Maximilian turned his head and looked directly down at my terrified face. His gray eyes commanded me to stand up and fight back.

"Alexandra, please stand up from your chair," Maximilian instructed firmly, pointing his right hand toward his mother. "I want you to use your brilliant mathematical brain right now. I want you to explain the exact forty-million-dollar mathematical error the senior men made yesterday, and I want you to explain exactly how you fixed the algorithm to save my mother's financial investments."