Y A N A
Usually, I didn't mind living in the upstairs space of the store with Lily and Jason, but this time, I found it quite bothersome.
After registering for the open conference yesterday, I tried to tell them about my meeting with Deborah and how we could possibly find ourselves out in the streets after the month of May unless I landed a deal with a douchebag bachelor. However, my cowardice was much too strong and I ended up just telling them that I would be meeting a client for brunch.
That's why right now, I'm standing in front of the mirror wondering if any of them would find my pencil skirt suspicious.
"Are you sure we can't come?" Lily asks as she watches me put on some sneakers (because my high heels are already in my bag). "I really want to go on that brunch too."
"Don't worry, we will stuff our faces as long as I get this deal," I lied, shrinking inside. "Wait for me here, okay? We need people for customers."
"Oh, yeah. For sure."
She sounds bummed and unsure about the customers. And I don't blame her because we usually just get homeless people trying to barge in, not actual paying clients who want our jewelry.
Still, I tell myself to be strong. I am not committing a sin by hiding this information from them. “I’ll see you both soon. Wish me luck!”
Before I end up breaking down in her arms and telling her how much of a liar I am, I leave the building and get to my car. I take another risk by gunning it, and just like that I’m away from Catori and on my way to Satellite Corp.
The building is massive, which is not new considering that it’s in the heart of LA, but the whole thing stands out with its beautiful glass exterior. A guard dressed like a butler ushers me into a parking space, and I immediately change my shoes before going out. My Toyota feels super out of place in the sea of Ranger Rovers and Lambos, but I just think to myself that maybe that’s a good thing.
However, my confidence only plummets even more when I get inside.
The lobby alone looks like a fancy, Victorian-inspired hotel with all its vintage furniture and gold-gilded walls, a great contrast with the modern exterior. Thin, modelesque women mill about the place, carrying signature golden folders with the Satellite logo. Men with the crispest, most expensive-looking suits are also present, talking on phones.
It seems that all the employees here are taller than normal, and they had this strange intimidating quality about them too that I can’t quite put my finger on.
Whatever it is, I just ignore it and head to the elevator, reading the confirmation email again to make sure that the conference will be held on the sixth floor. Taking a deep breath, I get into an elevator and punch down the button, closing my eyes and praying whatever entity will listen to me as I clutch my folder and my custom gift box containing my sample pieces.
I can do this, right?
I’m confident with my business. My products are stunning. All I need are people who would believe in me, and that might be Mikhail and his people. The only thing I have to do is--
“Yana?”
The sound of my name brings me out of my reverie. I flinch and look around, realizing that I didn’t move at all. I’m still on the ground floor, and people are piling into the elevator.
And one of those people is someone I never ever wanted to see.
My step-sister Gwen.
To my horror, she’s also wearing a corporate outfit, donning the same files and a big box in her arms. It doesn’t take a genius to know that she’s also going to the public conference.
As though things can’t get any worse, she clocks my outfit and my stuff too, winking at me. “Ooh, I see we’re once again head to head.”
“Yeah!” I force enthusiasm into my voice. “Nice to see you!”
I want to die.
Gwen is my age, and she’s always been the golden child. My dad married her mom when we were both ten, after my mom passed away when I was six. I’ve endured Gwen for thirteen years, but she just gets more and more unbearable every year. It’s always Gwen this, Gwen that. Even Dad likes her better.
Whenever I come to visit, he would always jump into stories about Gwen the Great and how she conquered a nasty client at her bank job, or how she scored a date with a random city accountant. Then he would look at me and translate his disappointment into a long, hard stare.
No matter what it is, it’s always Gwen who does it better.
And now apparently, she has gone from surpassing my grades and being cum laude to owning her own business too.
I would definitely get more roasted than the turkey this Thanksgiving. Dad would be merciless.
The elevator door closes and up we go. Gwen inserts herself next to me and scans me up and down. “I didn’t know you had a business.”
What a bitch. I told everyone last Christmas and she was the one who encouraged everyone to laugh.
“I didn’t know you had one either,” I just say. “And I definitely didn’t expect you to be the type to find help for it.”
That makes her blush. Ha. At least everyone knows I’m a loser, and me being here wouldn’t be a surprise. But I’m sure she would hate it if anyone in the family finds out she crawled her way to Satellite Corp from Las Vegas just to beg for funds.
“I wouldn’t say I need help,” she says in a simpering tone. “I prefer to think of it as a boost. After all, this company has helped so many people. It would be the honor of a lifetime to be a part of it.”
Gwen makes her voice louder for the last part, and I think she wants to be heard by the employees in the elevator. As if they would put in a word for her to Mikhail Sartori and flatter him into giving in.
“Very true,” I just mumble, hoping she would shut up.
Thankfully, before she can kiss more ass, the elevator dings and stops. The employees move to the side to let us out, so I just swerve away from Gwen, who quickly follows me.
I want to tell her to leave me alone, but then I see that the hall is already pretty much filled with people. All in corporate outfits, all with boxes or even crates and wagons of whatever they have to offer. I see some cosmetics and crazy contraptions, which in turn makes me curious about what Gwen has.
“Please sign in,” one woman tells us as we enter, so we both tap our names into the tablet that she’s holding. “The sequence is random and not based on punctuality, so please, be prepared.”
Gwen scoffs as we take our seats at the back. “I like that strategy. It shows that it’s not always the early bird that catches the worm. Similar to how it’s not always the first person who has the idea gets to make a business out of it.”
“What are you talking about?” I can’t help but ask, not masking my distaste for her anymore. “I think it’s quite unfair, really.”
She just shrugs. “Totally not. People who get the advantage of time by accident should not be treated like they’re special.”
I gape at her. Why does it feel like she’s drawing inspiration from something?
“Jane Harper,” the woman at the desk calls out, and a plump older lady gets up and heads to the end of the hall, where a set of double doors is located, flanked by two tall guards.
I assume that’s where the top guns are, and looking at the doors themselves makes me quite anxious.
Gwen shakes her head at me. “You’re nervous? Is your business not doing well?”
I want to ignore her. I really do. But something about her condescending tone and her comments earlier is making my blood boil. “Gwen, what’s your problem?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs again, then to my surprise, she reaches over me and tries to take the box on my lap. “I just want to see what you have--”
“Gwen!” I hiss, swatting her hand away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Instead of answering, she makes a dive at my box just as I’m about to angle my legs to move out of her way. Somehow, she manages to get a hold of it, and as much as I want to snatch it back from her, I don’t want to embarrass myself. The desk woman is already looking at me.
I swallow hard and watch as Gwen opens the box, which is a delicate woven twine material that I had to make by hand. A look of shock passes on her face as she takes out one of the sample pieces, which is a silver necklace with an eye-shaped pendant.
“Jewelry,” she mutters, smiling dryly. “How cute. That’s my business too.”
My heart sinks. Is that what she was referring to when she was making those comments about being early? Did she get the idea of making jewelry from me?
Of course she did.
Of course she fucking did.
“Give me that,” I say in a clipped tone, containing my anger even though it’s trying to burst out of me in waves. I reach out for my box but she swerves out of my grasp. “Gwen. Give it back.”
She just smirks. “My selling point is that my pieces are delicate and durable. I don’t know about yours.”
I clench my fists. She holds out the necklace to me and I grab it before she can move it away. But the only problem is, she won’t let go. I tug at it, but she doesn’t loosen her grip.
I’m seeing red now. All the bad things she’s done to me are coming back in waves. When she told her mom that I drew a mustache on her doll. When she stole aged wine from Dad’s pantry and blamed me. When she convinced them both to fund her through college instead of me, forcing me to take student loans and suffer alone.
And now this.
Sabotaging the last lifeline I have.
My rage explodes. All kind of common sense leaves my body. I yank at the necklace just as she does, and the last thing I register is the silver chain snapping in half right before my eyes.
Time slows down. Gwen lets go in pretend shock, covering her mouth with her hands as the other piece lands on the floor between us. She mutters insincere apologies I can’t make up, handing the box to me haphazardly and crushing the woven material, causing it to spill out the other sample pieces inside.
I take one look at the broken necklace and the scattered studs pieces with crumpled twine box on the floor, and I lose it.
Then I let out the angriest, screechiest, loudest scream, causing the double doors of the jury room to fly open.
Storming from it is none other than Mikhail Sartori himself.
Y A N A No. This can’t be happening to me. My mouth goes dry at the sight of Mikhail Sartori standing in front of the double doors. The logical part of me wants to look at his face to see if he’s angry or not, but the cowardly side of me just wants to look away and ignore him until he goes away. Unfortunately, the cowardly part wins. I lower my head and pick up the broken necklace, taking my sweet-ass time as the whole hall gets brought into a standstill. I shove Gwen’s leg just to be mean, and of course she makes a whole show of flinching to bring even more attention to us. “What’s happening?” I hear Mikhail asking in a low voice, amplified by the silent hall. “What commotion is going on?” The woman at the desk whispers something incomprehensible to him, and I don’t dare get up until he’s gone. I’m silently praying to all the gods in every religion that ever existed to take me out of this awkward and possibly life-ending situation, stuffing the necklace back into its bag. I hold
Y A N AI feel numb. I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe I just lost all the chances I have to make things better for Catori and my friends.I slapped Mikhail Sartori, a billionaire.Why the hell I’m not being escorted out of the building right now, I have no idea, but I have to assume that it’s a good thing because prison is the last place I wanna be right now.As I go out of the conference room, my knees start to shake so badly that I have to prop my hand against the wall to stop myself from falling over. Some of the hopefuls see me walking out in this condition, and I vaguely register their faces going pale. Do they think that the single-man panel in there roasted the shit out of me? Because if they’re not stupid enough to slap the CEO, they would not be in my place.In the distance, I can see Gwen getting to her feet and looking at me. I don’t dare meet her eyes. I know that if I do, I might just commit murder.“Is everything okay, miss?” the desk lady asks me, but I
Y A N AI don’t say anything. My body is numb and all I can do is sit there and shrink more and more. My luck is rotten to the core. First I blew my chances of making it, and now I got chased into an alley by a strange man whose advances I rejected.I might just die tonight too.He knocks on my window and laughs as I flinch. “You were so brave telling me to fuck off, and now you’re cowering in your car? Open the door so we can talk.”“NO!” I yell at him. “I’ll call the police!”“Do it,” he urges, and to my utter horror, he raises his hands, showing me that he’s holding a crowbar. “I’ll count to three.”A scream escapes my mouth. I fumble for my phone but it falls under the seat. Tyler is swinging the crowbar in his hands, mimicking using it to break my window.And the bad thing is, I know that he’ll do it, so I just crumple into a tight ball, closing my eyes and waiting for the worst.But it doesn’t come.The only thing I hear is the clang of the crowbar falling on the ground, and a l
M I K H A I LSo Yana Allard is indeed human.“That can’t be possible,” Evan told me yesterday after Yana walked out. He looked at the door she just shut closed and then turned to me. “I could sense her. Her human scent is strong and pure, and being in the same room with her was hard. . . .”“Not for me,” I whispered, and that’s when I had to admit to myself that yes, it was pretty strange. How come she was purely human and didn’t affect me? I was supposed to be the one who would get triggered more easily. “She might be something else.”“I doubt that,” Evan said, but he did look unsure. “Other creatures had been wiped out by civilization. Us Lycans are pretty much the last ones here.”“Only one way to find out,” I said, clutching my smarting cheek. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be a troll or something. She was strong.”He laughed. “Only one way to find out, boss.”With that, he looked at me and instantly, we both knew what to do. I assigned an officer to take over the
Y A N A I’m floored. Not only that, I think I just sank all the way to Satan’s armpits in hell because of what Mikhail said. However, he just looks at me pleasantly as though this is a perfectly sane conversation between two sane adults. “Of course, this will be completely--” “Aren’t you a billionaire?” I blurt out. When he looks mildly offended about my interruption, I lean close to him and say slowly, “You are a billionaire bachelor.” “And what does have to do with anything, Miss Allard?” I shake my head. How come a rich businessman like him can’t understand basic logic? “What I meant, sir Mikhail is that you are rich and successful, and attractive. . . .” I trail off when I see the smirk on his face. “So you think I’m attractive?” “That’s not the point!” I wave him off. “The point here is, you’re basically the perfect bachelor. Hell, don’t you have a whole groupie of models worshiping the ground you walk on?” His smirk only gets wider. “So you know things about me?” “Everyo
M I K H A I L“What?” Yana splutters as the stylists approach him. She backs away as though she’s being arrested, putting her hands up in surrender. “What’s happening?”“Miss Allard, relax.” I let out a little laugh. “Let them take care of you, okay?”“But what are they going to do to me?”“Make you beautiful.”Yana’s mouth goes wide. “So you mean I’m not?”Oops. I turn to the stylists. “Take her away.”“HEY!” she yells, but they manage to coax her into coming with them, taking her to the private conference room I have at the back of my office.I take a peek before I close the door, and I’m pleased to see that they stylists bought all the clothes, accessories, and makeup that I told them to choose. Yana still looks like a fish out of water, but I’m certain she will adjust in no time.I go back to my desk and start to flick through some documents containing our financial statements. I review the summary and see that there’s a mistake, so I decide to take a crack at checking them cover
Y A N ANo way. No freaking way Mikhail did this and said that.I want it to be a dream. I’m so humiliated that I can’t feel my own body. I’m like a floating entity just standing there, my hand clasped in his as he continues to look at Deborah in challenge.“Anything more?” he prompts. “Or are we allowed to leave now?”Deborah looks like she just got punched in the face. Her husband is staring at her, and when their gazes meet, she suddenly turns to me and mutters, “I apologize, Yana.”“That’s what I like to hear,” Mikhail says in a lofty tone, signing another cheque and tossing it to her. “This is for another six months.”With that, he pushes past her, his hand still wrapped securely around mine as he pulls me along with him. I trot behind him, struggling to keep up not because of my sky-high heels but because my knees are weak from what just happened. His chauffeur opens the door for us, and only when we get inside do I manage to breathe out.“Back to the office, please,” he orders,
M I K H A I L“No answer,” Evan says as he looks up from his phone. “Yana has ignored all ten of our calls, boss. What do we do?”I open my mouth to say that we should call her again, but no sound comes out. The truth is, I don’t know what to do, and calling her this many times with no response is starting to feel wrong to me.Especially considering what happened the night before yesterday.“You did humiliate me more.”Those words continue to run through my mind like a bad mantra. Every time I try to focus on something, I hear Yana’s voice saying that. Granted, it shouldn’t be a big deal since she has every right to feel that way, but I just can’t shake off the feeling that she genuinely believes I shouldn’t have defended her.And she’s right, I didn’t have to. I just did it because I wanted to.I’m starting to think that the only reason why I’m this bothered is because I still don’t know why I wanted to.It’s not because of the contract. It’s not because of our arrangement. I just si