Office
1131 Words
[Luca’s POV]
The elevator dinged softly.
Luca stepped out first.
Dmitri followed, walking with the kind of slow confidence that only came from two things: survival and control.
The recovery had been fast. For a man who had been slashed open in a back alley, Dmitri Volkov looked disgustingly well-rested.
Luca wasn’t surprised.
Men like his father didn’t die easily.
They waited until the world owed them more.
They moved through the private corridor of Volkov Industries, passing the tinted glass walls, the black marble floors echoing under their shoes. The air was cold, sterile — scented faintly with cedarwood and control.
“Did you review the Taiwan shipping merge?” Dmitri asked without looking at him.
“I did,” Luca replied. “It’s not clean.”
“Good. I like a little dirt.”
Luca didn’t smile.
They passed the conference wing and headed toward the east annex — the HR division.
Today was recruitment. New blood. Interviews. Secretaries. PR heads. Analysts.
Luca usually didn’t waste time on this part. But Dmitri insisted on watching the line. Said it “told him everything” about the people applying.
So Luca walked with him.
Then—
his father’s steps slowed. Just a fraction.
Luca looked too.
She was sitting in the line.
Caelia.
She was sitting three chairs from the glass wall. Head down. Portfolio clutched in both hands. A pale blue blouse tucked into black formal pants. Silver watch. Modest heels. Her hair was tied up neatly, though a few strands curled loosely down her cheek.
His eyes dragged lower — like they didn’t belong to him.
She wore a soft, matte lipstick. Her nails were short, clean. A beige purse sat quietly on her lap.
Professional. Elegant. Controlled.
But all he could see was her barefoot, in his shirt.
The hallway froze.
She hadn’t noticed them yet.
But Dmitri had.
He slowed mid-stride. “That’s her.”
Luca didn’t answer.
The girl who saved his life.
The girl who didn’t ask for money.
The girl who looked at him like he was just a man. Not Volkov.
Dmitri’s voice cut in low. “Bring her.”
---
[Caelia’s POV]
Her back ached from sitting straight for over an hour. But she didn’t slouch.
She wasn’t going to let nerves get the better of her.
The Volkov building was even more intimidating than she imagined. Black-tinted windows, polished floors, steel-rimmed panels along every wall. Everything screamed precision. Wealth. Cleanliness.
She sat with six others — all of them dressed to impress. One girl was adjusting her blazer for the third time. A man beside her was muttering his pitch under his breath.
She just… waited.
Portfolio in hand. Three printed CVs. A short write-up. And her old achievements from her internship days, clean and stapled.
Nothing fancy. Just facts.
She needed this.
She needed the money.
The last of her savings had gone to the hospital bills. Not hers. His. The man she dragged out of the alley, bleeding. She didn’t even know he was someone powerful until the ambulance guards whispered “Volkov” on the way in.
She never expected anything from that night.
She never wanted anything.
But now—
Now she had to survive.
The one person in her life that mattered — her younger brother — needed school fees next month. And medicine. And rent.
She couldn’t fail again.
---
She looked up for a moment. Just to ease her neck.
And saw them.
Luca Volkov. And the man beside him.
The man she’d saved.
Her pulse slammed through her chest.
They walked with so much gravity that the entire corridor shifted. Like everyone else simply didn’t exist in the frame.
Luca wore another black suit. No tie again. Open collar. Watch gleaming under the light. His scent brushed across the hallway faintly — sandalwood and winter spice.
And the other man —
Dmitri Volkov. Stone eyes. Towering. Mouth set in a clean line.
They didn’t look at anyone.
Until… they did.
At her.
Dmitri leaned close to Luca and said something she couldn’t hear.
Then a staff member stepped toward her.
“Miss Morozova. Please come with us.”
---
She followed the assistant down a silent corridor.
The hallway turned quieter the further they walked. Carpeted. No windows. Just dark wooden panels and soft recessed lights.
Then — a tall door. Matte black.
It opened smoothly.
Dmitri Volkov’s office.
It was enormous.
High ceilings. Shelves lined with leather-bound books. A sharp desk made of deep brown wood, two chairs opposite. A globe bar sat in the corner. An oil painting hung behind him — grey city skyline during a storm.
She stepped in slowly.
Luca stood near the window, arms folded. Watching.
Dmitri didn’t waste time.
He gestured. “Sit.”
She sat.
Her heartbeat was now in her throat.
She handed over her portfolio — silently — praying it wasn’t shaking in her hands.
Dmitri opened it. Scanned the pages. Quiet.
No expression.
He flipped through — education, training, notes of past freelance work. Nothing elite. But all real.
After what felt like years, he closed the folder.
“You’ve never worked under a Volkov division before.”
She nodded. “No, sir.”
“You stopped your graduation two years ago. Why?”
Her fingers curled around the edge of her chair.
“I had to support someone. Family.”
His eyes narrowed, just slightly. “Still supporting them?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then, without lifting his gaze—
“You’re hired.”
She blinked.
“What… position?” she asked quietly.
Dmitri glanced sideways at Luca. “My son’s secretary.”
Her blood drained.
“I—”
She caught herself. Straightened her spine. “I can do it.”
“I know you can,” Dmitri said.
Then softer: “And you will be paid what you’re worth. More, even.”
Luca didn’t say anything. His jaw stayed tense. But he didn’t protest.
He didn’t look happy.
But he didn’t stop it either.
That said enough.
---
[Caelia’s POV – Final Emotions]
She stepped out of the office with the papers in hand.
Her legs felt like they didn’t belong to her.
Senior position. Base salary five times her last job. A private cubicle, full medical, flexible work hours. Volkov-level benefits.
It didn’t feel real.
Her phone buzzed faintly in her bag.
A message from the housekeeper.
“No meds left. He’s asking if you’ll come soon.”
Her breath caught.
She gripped the paper tighter.
Finally.
Finally she could say yes.
Her little brother wouldn’t skip another school term. Wouldn’t go to bed on plain toast and boiled water again.
She blinked twice. Swallowed the lump in her throat.
She didn’t cry.
But her heart did.
- Writer
