Game on.(chapt.5)

(Alessia's POV)

All through the sleepless  night, I had been confined in a whirlpool of pure fury, my mind reeling round and round about what had happened. I had been tricked into  giving Romanov Industries to Nikolai . My company. My blood, sweat, and sacrifices were erased with mere strokes of a pen.

I wasn't dumb. I had known that as soon as I stepped out of that office, something was not right with the bloody contract; however, I was angrier at that point and ready to sign it before my dad could drag my mom deeper into this shithole. And now?

I didn't have the power now.

Frustration gnawed against my chest  as I pushed the silk sheets away and sat on the bed, slapping my bare feet against chill marble. The room was still light-dim; only a slice of dawn light was moving across the horizon. That meant nothing. I did not wish to lie here seething with anger. I wanted to be a force of action. Now.

I took a very long shower, releasing all of my anger, not bothering to observe any restraint.

If Nikolai wanted to get dirty, I would be a woman ready for war.

I pulled my hair back and up into a tight bun and had on a purse and my cell phone with makeup that could cut. The house was as silent as a tomb. Not even the sound of maids rustling about broke the silence. Not that I cared. I had one destination in mind.

Nikolai Volkov's office.

The ride over was a blur. My fists were clenching around the steering wheel, as far as my knuckles had whitened, and my foot was stomping on the gas pedal harder than it should have been.

By the time I drove up to Volkov Enterprises, the sun was coming up behind the horizon, its cold and golden light reflecting off the glass surface of the skyscraper. I barely parked in the space before flinging open the door and climbing out, my heels clacking over pavement in rhythm as I marched towards the entrance.

Suddenly, as I shouldered the door open, the receptionists froze. Eyes puffed out, bodies stiff, faces screamed in terror as they exchanged side-glances-but not a single person attempted to stop me.

I walked to the elevator and depressed the button, drumming my foot impatiently on the marble floor. And before I knew what was happening, two huge men appeared out of nowhere and stood facing me.

His guards.

"Miss.Ramanov," one of them said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You can't actually go upstairs without an appointment."

I crossed my arms on my chest and set my chin stubbornly up. "Step aside."

No movement.

"I don't think you realize," the other one said, his set face telling me he was professional. "Mr. Volkov doesn't receive unscheduled callers."

My jaw locked, my nails digging into my arms. I'm going to kill him.

Before I could snap, a voice, one too familiar, cut through the strain.

"Let her through."

I turned around, my gaze locking onto a man a few feet away. Enzo Russo. Nikolai's shadow. His right-hand man, and whatever else he was supposed to be.

Enzo produced a slight smile on his lips, a glint of humor in his black eyes, "That's his wife," he told the guards. "And the last I heard, Mr. Volkov would not be so pleased with you stopping her from meeting him."

The guards hesitated.

I didn't wait for them to pick. One last glare over my shoulder, and I pushed past them and into the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor.

The doors shut. My heart pounding.

A few seconds passed.

The doors opened.

And he was standing there.

Nikolai sprawled behind his enormous desk like he was sitting on a throne, black suit and starched white shirt not a hair out of place, the very embodiment of power and control.

His roving eyes spotted me as I entered the office, and at last his lips twisted into a sneer.

"Well, well," he indolently drawled, reclining back in his chair. "If it isn't my beautiful wife. Missing me already, then?"

I wished I could slap the smirk off his face.

I tossed my handbag onto his desk and glared at him. "Enough of the crap, Nikolai. I know what you've done."

The smirk on his lips did not change, if anything, it became worse.

"I did what any businessman would do," he said candidly. "You signed the contract. Not my fault."

I bunched my fists. "You deceived me."

"I made you an offer. You accepted." He flung out his arms. "Not my fault that you didn't read the fine print."

I ground my nails into my palms. I had hated no one so much as I hated him then.

Nikolai yawned as he might to demonstrate this whole conversation made him sleepy. "Think of it this way, Alessia. Your father owes me three hundred million dollars. If he doesn't pay, I have complete ownership of Romanov Industries. Legally." He tilted his head to one side. "But, because I'm such a great guy, when I get my money, I'll give back whatever's left. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" My voice shook with anger. "You stole my company."

"I took what was offered."

I would have killed him.

Not yet, though.

I breathe it in slowly and deeply because I needed to calm my anger and think twice. Okay. If he wanted dirty, I could do it dirt-ier.

"War, huh? You want war, Nikolai?" I moved in a little closer, my voice a whisper.

He chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. "Careful, wife. I don't lose wars."

I stared at him for what felt like an eternity, then turned on my heel and stormed out of his office without saying another word.

Hours passed, and I sat in my own office, staring over the contract with Sofia sitting by my side. And then I saw it.

A loophole.

I can't be replaced as CEO unless I am dead.

Or…

If Romanov Industries' staff hated new ownership, they would get triple pay.

A slow, victorious smile spread onto my lips.

Nikolai thought he had won.

He didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"Call a meeting Sofia, all of the staffs, meanwhile I'll talk to satan's little protégé." I said as I took out my phone and dialed his number.

"What do you want wifey?"