LOGINEvania had just stepped out of a meeting when her phone rang. As she reached for it, she found Elizabeth outside the meeting room. Elizabeth was visibly upset, her face folded, she called out to Evania before she could answer the call.
“Evania! The boss wants to see you right now,” Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice sharp with urgency.
“I’m in the middle of a meeting. W-what does he want?” Evania stammered, pressing the phone back to her left ear.
“I wonder why he’s so inclined toward you,” Elizabeth mused, her tone tinged with curiosity.
“Seriously, Elizabeth, you of all people should know I’m not in his good books,” Evania retorted.
Meanwhile, Jonathan sat in his office, scrolling through his tablet. On the screen was a photo of a tall, red-haired woman with sharp, inviting eyes. His mind drifted to the past as he gazed at the image.
Suddenly, Geoffrey opened the door and signaled to Evania, who entered the room. Jonathan quickly put away the tablet.
“Please, have a seat,” he said. Evania pulled out a mesh chair and sat down.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
“I have a job for you,” Jonathan revealed.
“What kind of job, sir?” Evania asked, her voice cautious.
Jonathan switched on his iPad and turned it toward her, displaying the photo he was eyeing earlier on. Above the image, the title read, “Yelena: The Latest Media Sensation.”
“I need you to look into her,” he challenged.
“I’m not an investigative journalist,” Evania protested.
“Versatility is one of the key skills we consider during hiring. You should know that, Evania,” Jonathan countered firmly.
Accustomed to his bossy attitude, Evania relented.
“I’ll do it. Just tell me what to do,” she said.
“I want you to gather all the information about this upcoming online TV venture—or whatever it is—and check their progress with the Daily Star,” Jonathan explained.
Evania stood up without a word, stepping away from the chair, but his voice stopped her short.
“Evania,” he called.
“Yes, sir?” she responded, turning back.
“About last time,” Jonathan confessed, his tone sincere.
“Ah! It's all good, no need to worry boss.” she replied graciously.
“So… we're good?” he asked, his lips slightly moved with a chuckle.
“Yeah, we’re good,” she giggled in return.
“Alright then,” Jonathan said.
“Good day sir,” Evania replied as she headed to the door.
Jonathan watched her curvy figure approach the exit, her curls catching his eye. Before she could open the door, he called out again.
“Evania.”
“Yes?” she turned, her expression curious.
“Maybe we could have coffee sometime and talk,” Jonathan suggested tentatively.
“Yeah, maybe,” Evania smiled as she walked out. As she passed, Mrs. Garvey entered and stood before the crystal office table.
“Sir! Jack is here. He says he’s ready.” she announced.
“Send in Geoffrey then.” Jonathan responded.
Jonathan was heading to Essex, with his favorite righthand, Geoffrey. He knew his mother's persistence would suddenly lead him back to Yelena, his obsessive Ex, so he decided to find a solution, to outsmart his mother.
They flew to Essex secretly where Uncle Mark was hosting a party aboard his lavish yacht. Jack hit the ground moments before the yacht departed to sea. Uncle Mark, gazing and waving his hands yelled even before they touched down.
The three men—Jonathan, Geoffrey, and Jack drew the crowd— swanked in colored shorts and glittering silk Valentino shirts. Uncle Mark embraced each in a warm hug, his voice screaming their names.
The yacht buzzed with revelers drinking and dancing to loud pop music. Half-dressed women in bikinis swayed their slender waists, each with a partner. Jonathan retreated to a cabin as the boat sailed, while Uncle Mark sipped a cocktail and danced with the crowd on the rooftop, where Jonathan eventually joined him.
“It’s been a long time,” Jonathan began, pouring a drink.
“Yeah, haven't seen you in a while son,” Uncle Mark chuckled, sweat dripping down his face.
“Uncle Mark, you still party this hard?” Jonathan asked, eyeing him.
“What more can I do, Jon? Life comes at you so fast.” Uncle Mark giggled.
“The tragedies of life are inevitable, even the brave must ease their sorrow,” Jonathan reflected.
“Exactly, Jon. Losing a wife is unbearable,” Uncle Mark murmured.
“So you turned to liquor,” Jonathan noted.
“Don’t love too deeply, mate. Take it from me,” Uncle Mark advised, sipping his drink.
“Speaking of love, exactly why I need your help,” Jonathan admitted.
“Haha! Do you need my help to find a suitor? Who do you think I am, the king of hearts?” Uncle Mark teased loudly.
“Hey, easy, old bull,” Jonathan whispered.
“Then tell me huh?, Is this all about your nagging mother again?” Uncle Mark giggled.
“Yeah. She's been overbearing, lately,” Jonathan clarified, his voice cutting through the music.
“Why is she pestering you, that woman just won't stop?” Uncle Mark pondered.
“I need a woman who can impress the Walters at the country home this weekend,” Jonathan explained.
“Wow! A wife for hire you mean?” Uncle Mark queried.
“I’m ready to pay any amount, as long as she impresses them.” Jonathan conceded.
“Why are you doing this, Jon? This isn’t you.” Uncle Mark wondered.
“She wants to hook me up with Yelena,” he insisted.
Perplexed by Jonathan’s insistence, Uncle Mark pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. An idea struck him.
“What if you try one of Cathy’s lovely birds?” he suggested.
“Those are known faces, Mark. One of our media outlets exposed their schemes,” Jonathan confessed.
“Haha! Karma is a bitch Jonathan.” Uncle Mark laughed.
“Am I a joke to you?” Jonathan muttered.
“Come on, Jon. Cathy could’ve helped, but you exposed her.” Uncle Mark explained.
“Wow, is that funny to you?” Jonathan inquired.
“Well, sounds ironic to me,” Uncle Mark said.
“So, what now, escorts?” Jonathan asked.
“Do you have any other options,” He clarified.
“Not so sure, that's why I came,” Jonathan responded.
“Enjoy the party, mate, we'll hit the usual spots till we find one suitable.” Uncle Mark replied.
Uncle Mark was then whisked away by a woman in a silky dress, leading him downstairs. Jonathan glanced back and saw Geoffrey chatting with a reveler.
“Such a small world,” a voice whispered, her breath a mix of cocktails, her lips painted red. Jonathan turned to find Yelena, staring closely behind him.
“Yelena! What a surprise!” he said with a forced smile.
“Oh yeah, surprise indeed,” she replied with a half-smile.
“What brings you here?” Jonathan asked.
“What do you expect, to party of course,” she answered.
“Oh! I see,” Jonathan remarked.
“Well, what about you?” her sultry voice inquired.
“Yeah, to party of course,” Jonathan conceded.
“So, are you enjoying the party?” Yelena asked.
“Of course I am,” he replied.
Yelena stepped closer, locking eyes with him. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered again, her voice sending a shiver through his stomach.
“Shall we have this dance?”
“Or rather sit down and discuss that merger first,” Jonathan whispered back.
“Do you wanna know how I managed to convince your mother," she warned, straightening her face as Jonathan grabbed her hips.
“Are you holding anything against her,” He gasped, his hands wrapped around her.
“Am I, maybe.” she joked.
Jonathan and Geoffrey sat at a quiet table in the cafe down in the hotel lobby. A few minutes later, Mr. Starkov appeared. He was accompanied only by Vlad. There were no handshakes, or introductions whatsoever.Jonathan gazed directly at the older man. Finally, after weeks of tension, they were meeting face-to-face. He leaned over the table, keeping his voice steady and low.“You will let the lad go free for now,” Jonathan said, his eyes locking onto Starkov's weathered face. “And I will keep the confession with me until Walter Media is completely safe.”Mr. Starkov chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. He hit his heavy black cane hard against the marble floor, making the coffee cups rattle. He lifted his chin and stared back at Jonathan with pure defiance. Then, he leaned forward, resting both of his rough hands on the cane.“This is not a game, Jonathan,” Starkov said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I will find Yamalenko either way. You cannot protect him.”Jonathan nodded slowl
Geoffrey halted at a dark corridor. He wanted to be patient. A dark figure walked into the narrow passage between the concrete block of flats. When he saw him, he ran back. Geoffrey reversed the car and headed in his direction. The man disappeared down another corridor.Geoffrey followed slowly, taking in the small spaces between the buildings. He paused at the edge of one of the buildings.The man stepped out; and Geoffrey was leaning on his car, lighting a cigarette.His voice mumbled as he inhaled the white smoke."This is the end; no more rat chase, Yamalenko."Yamalenko gave up and approached him. His eyes were looking sideways."Who are you?" "How do you know my name?" he asked.Geoffrey opened the front seat. He turned. Yamalenko obeyed after seeing a pistol strapped around his waist.They drove out of the shanty town and into the city via another dark passage under a bridge.Geoffrey maintained his focus on the wheel. Yamalenko didn't know where he was going. As long as Stark
The tides were shifting. The storm still swept across the entire city of London. Not a physical storm, but a mental and emotional battle between the haves and have-nots.Yelena ended up in an Airbnb with Garrett. After all, one last time won’t hurt. She took off her heels very fast, kissing Garrett and holding his back. The man grabbed her butt as they proceeded to the bed.No questions, straight up to the bed. The night was cold, quiet, and calm—a perfect world for their indulging. Garrett took off her dress. Yelena lay on the bed naked. Garrett pulled her thongs with his teeth. Yelena grabbed his head and forced him up.She sucked his cold pink lips until they were wet. She spread her legs over the bed and Garrett slid into her. She grabbed him and pinned him between her legs. She moaned. He moved, slowly digging into her until she could feel it there, in her g-spot. Garrett pulled out and turned her.“You like to spoon a lot,” she whispered, turning on one side.Garrett lifted one
Evania sat across the table, staring at Montgomery. Elvis stood behind her, squeezing and playing with a small tennis ball. Mr. Freeman locked eyes with her.Evania’s face glowed. She chuckled before leaning forward. Her voice dropped low. “So, if you know where the killer is, why don't you just record a testimony? It could help,” she suggested.Mr. Freeman drawled, and the leather of his chair creaked as he stretched his tie. He sighed. “Yamalenko escaped. No one knows where he is.”Montgomery cleared her throat. “There was a sighting of blood stained hay at one of the barns. He might have jumped into one of those trucks,” she said.Evania clutched her bag. Finally, she had some leverage over Starkov, even though Yamalenko was still loose. There was hope. She stood up, cleared her throat, and turned to the door. Elvis stepped aside to let her pass. They all watched as she walked out. Elvis tried to speak, but Montgomery shut the door and turned to him.“Don't even try it,” she w
“Focus Media emerges as the frontrunner of the much-anticipated London Festival.”The words struck Jonathan hard. It was the undeniable truth: his company was slowly drowning.One of his own reporters, had covered the entire story. He even wrote about the conversation with Tom Billings. Finley dropped the papers on Jonathan’s desk. Jonathan stared at Yelena's face on the cover of the newspaper. Her eyes seemed to pierce through his soul. Her open lips looked like a witch smiling at him in a mean way.Even Evania, down in the newsroom, read the news. She sat in the editorial section of the lifestyle magazine. She read the entire article from start to finish. Becky watched her from across the room. She shook her head because Evania had been buried in the newspaper for hours. Becky stood up and walked over. Evania did not even flinch or turn around. Becky grabbed the papers out of her hands.She cleared her throat. “How long do you plan on torturing yourself?”Evania turned away. She
“You’re already deep in this. Just play your part well,” Yelena said.Dick stared at his computer setup. He watched Yelena leave his room and looked back at the papers in his hand. He shook his head. He sat in his chair and clipped the small microphone to his collar.The photo of Jonathan feeding Evania at the restaurant spread across the internet like wildfire. The whole city talked about it. Every entertainment blog and news site posted the image, except for Walter Media. The photo made its rounds everywhere.Evania pulled her small grey jacket over her head to hide her face. She used the back door to get inside the building. The front entrance was flooded with paparazzi waiting to question her. Recently, she and Jonathan had told the press it was just a work relationship. The photo showed something else. It was more than work.She stood by a window and looked down at the hungry journalists. Becky was looking for her everywhere. She finally found Evania on the stairs. Evania had s
The flashing lights blurred together at Café de l'Homme. Members of high society filled the event in white suits, while the ladies wore expensive white and red dresses. For the crew and the participants like the models, style was all that mattered. The atmosphere was a battlefield of uniqueness and
The death of Franklin was still a fresh mystery, a jagged glass shard in the back of Jonathan’s mind. But Mr. Starkov wasn't interested in mourning; he had already sent another message. The warning was blunt: step away or take the fall for the corpse. Starkov’s man, Yamalenko sent him an audio rec
Evania stared across the table, drumming an impatient rhythm. Yolanda was yawning and checking the mascara on her cheeks. Sophia was on the other end of the round table, watching the little children play across the street while sipping her coffee. The silence was becoming awkward and unbearable, so
Evania stopped at the door. “What assurance do you have?” she asked in a low, calm tone.Jonathan let out a fresh breath, feeling his chest relax. He had waited for that peaceful, calm tone in her voice for a long time.“I told the prosecutor that if he played any more games, the Daily News would







