She strikes a deal with the devil - an alliance with Leo. A game of manipulation and revenge begins, fueled by a growing, undeniable desire.
...
The rain echoed like a thousand angry gods, mirroring the tempest brew...
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I entered the building of Petrov's headquarters in Moscow, causing the atmosphere to shift from bright to dark. I've this effect, and strangely enough, I found it satisfying.
I called for the lift. Few minutes later the doors opened on my floor, the receptionist greeted me with her usual cheerfulness. Sometimes, her enthusiasm can be a bit overwhelming. I decided to ignore her presence once again and headed straight to my office.
Much to my annoyance, my assistant hadn't placed my coffee on my desk yet. This was triggering and I made a mental note to address his tardiness - he was already 10 minutes late.
I delved into the pages of the monthly business magazine to divert my mind, and as I turned each page, Charts and graphs drifted before my eyes in a familiar blur, until she caught my attention. Her headshot was sharp and professional, but it was her eyes that held me captive. A deep brown, reminiscent of rich, melted chocolate with a hint of gold, like sunlight dancing on a river.
Those eyes weren't just the usual doe-eyed, filled with manufactured enthusiasm. They exuded a quiet intensity, a hint of a smile lingering at the edges. I found myself drawn in, leaning closer to the page, forgetting about the dry statistics.
"Intriguing" escaped my lips before I could stop myself.
It was rare for a business magazine to hold such captivating allure. My normally analytical mind faltered. Was it the intelligence shining through her eyes that captured me? Or perhaps the warmth that defied the typically cold business setting?
A wave of unfamiliar curiosity washed over me. Who was this woman? What tales did her eyes hold, causing them to crinkle at the corners? The ordinary business profile suddenly seemed inadequate. I hastily flipped back a page, desperate to find her name, to unravel the mystery that those brown eyes promised.
There it was, a simple string of letters, yet to me, it felt like a secret code I knew from ages, the key to the long closed door. Those brown eyes becoming familiar suddenly, promising something more, igniting that fire again.
'Regina Moretti" I savor the delicious flavor of her name as it rolls off my tongue after years.
Someone knocked at my door and after hearing my permission there he was, entering with a demeanor similar of a scolded schoolboy, arriving ten minutes past my usual coffee time. Sergei typically had impeccable timing, handing me my mug right on cue. However, today was different. His shoulders were slumped, a stark contrast to his usual upright posture, and his eyes were darting nervously around the room, avoiding meeting mine.
"Sir your coffee." he said and went back to his position. He is waiting to get fired but its his lucky day.
"Regina Moretti."
"Sir?"
"I want her."
His eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets in surprise. His reaction is valid, I tend to keep my distance from the opposite gender. There have been rumors circulating about my preferences, but I choose not to address them. This actually helps keep unwanted female attention at bay. This way I can focus more on my work.
