Control me.

Chapter 15 - Nick.

My head was spinning from the tension, not from the alcohol. I took a deep breath, pulled my tie tighter so it sat properly again, straightened my collar. My fingers ran through my hair, giving it its familiar shape.

The man in the mirror smiled back at me.

Me.

Arrogant. Clean. Dominant.

That was how they needed to see me.

I pushed the door open and stepped outside. The sound of the music wrapped around me again, the lights hit my eyes directly, and the smoke from cigars mixed with the scent of expensive colognes reminded me where I was:

my world.

The kingdom I had built with blood and money.

I found Paul easily. He was there on the couch with Alan, his eyes even brighter than before. As if he had already placed the crown of success on his head.

I still hadn't decided if I wanted him beside me.

But I liked watching him thirst.

People who thirst are easier to control.

I dropped heavily onto the couch next to them and grabbed a glass from the table. The ice had already melted, the liquid inside it strong. I downed it in one gulp, letting the fire burn my throat.

I gestured to the bartender for another.

Alan raised an eyebrow.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Always," I replied coldly, not bothering to elaborate.

Paul immediately started talking. Questions. Suggestions. Ideas about how he could help, how he could prove his worth.

I let him talk.

I simply listened, drinking, nodding occasionally, while my mind drifted elsewhere.

I didn't pay Irina any attention.

I knew she was somewhere nearby, maybe behind me, with her drink and cigarette. But I didn't turn once to look at her. I didn't care at that moment.

All I wanted was to keep control of the night. To show Paul that this wasn't university. Not dreams.

This was reality.

I downed another drink, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and smiled slightly at Alan.

We had work to do.

As I settled deeper into the couch, I grabbed another drink from the table. The ice clinked softly against the glass, a rhythmic sound that both calmed me and kept me alert.

I glanced around quickly, spotting Irina standing across the room, sipping her drink. Her posture was straight, her back turned to me.

My mind wasn't on her.

She was just another piece of scenery. A woman there to attract attention.

Alan gestured for me to sit comfortably, and Paul, still full of excitement, began talking again about the position.

"Nick, I was thinking about how I could organize the investment files," he said, his hands moving nervously, his voice slightly shaky. "I already have some ideas on how we could track the deals with partners better..."

I turned toward him slowly, my eyes heavy.

I didn't smile.

I didn't need to.

Power isn't transferred through words or smiles.

It's transferred through presence. Through posture. Through the way you impose yourself on a room.

"Listen, Paul," I said in a slow, cold voice. "First you need to understand something. I don't operate like the other employers you've seen."

"There's no time for childish fantasies here."

"Every minute you waste will irritate me."

Paul lowered his gaze to the floor immediately.

Submission.

I recognized it instantly.

Did he like it?

Maybe.

He was ready to learn who was in control here.

And I was the law.

Alan chuckled softly, a calm almost invisible smile forming.

"Nick, he'll take it seriously," he said. "He knows what it means to work for you."

"I hope so," I replied, raising my glass and letting the ice hit my wrist. "But I won't keep him here if he doesn't prove useful."

Paul started talking again, and I listened, my mind checking every word, every idea, every movement.

My gaze occasionally drifted toward Irina for a brief moment, observing her like an object rather than a person.

Her body.

Her posture.

Her legs.

Nothing more.

"You need to know what you're stepping into," I continued, taking another sip. "This isn't a simple job."

"If you decide to stay, you'll need eyes everywhere. Move fast. Think faster."

"Your decisions will affect a lot of things."

"And I don't forgive mistakes."

Paul gave me an awkward smile. I could feel his excitement burning in the air around us.

Some people would call him fearless.

I saw him as a small dog that had just learned to sit.

He needed guidance.

Alan watched silently, always there to make sure the balance remained intact.

His friendship made him valuable.

But more than anything, it was his loyalty that made him irreplaceable.

"When you start," I told Paul, "you'll have responsibilities in three areas."

"Investment management. Communication with partners. And monitoring every business move related to our companies."

"Every decision you make will need approval from me or Alan."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Nick," he answered, a mixture of fear and excitement in his voice.

I smiled slightly. Almost invisibly.

This wasn't the time for sympathy.

All I needed was compliance.

And efficiency.

"Paul," I continued, "I also want you to understand something."

"This isn't university."

"There's no room here for doubt or insecurity."

"If you can't handle the pressure... leave now."

Paul lowered his head again.

He understood.

There was no turning back.

He was either with me.

Or with no one.

I took one last sip of my drink, letting the liquid burn down my throat, and turned my gaze toward Irina for a single second.

She was there, arms crossed, watching.

But she didn't interest me.

My mind was on business.

On rules.

On power.

Everything else was just a distraction.

"Everything clear?" I asked again, louder this time, breaking the silence around us.

"Yes, Nick," they both answered almost simultaneously.

I laughed quietly to myself.

Paul was a mirror of his own ambition — fearless, but vulnerable.

Alan knew when to speak and when to let me dominate the room.

And I was there.

Ruling the space.

Drink in hand.

Eyes open for any mistake.

Everything was under control.

And that feeling, more than anything else that night, satisfied me.