Chapter Ten
1137 Words
Sophia stood in front of the mirror in their suite, clutching her folder like it was a Bible and she was about to confess sins she never committed.
“Neutral face,” she whispered to herself. “Just smile. No trauma. No hyenas. You are a professional.”
Dominic, fixing his pastel blazer, nodded seriously. “Yes. And I will also keep a neutral face.”
“You better,” she said, pointing a threatening finger. “Do not even look hyena-adjacent.”
Dominic held up both hands. “I am a vault. A silent monk. I will behave.”
“Good,” she said.
A beat.
Dominic added, “Unless he brings up non-compete clauses. You know those activate me.”
“Dominic,” she warned.
They left the suite, walking down the quiet executive hallway like two kindergarteners on their first field trip trying desperately not to embarrass their teacher.
“Okay,” Sophia whispered. “We act normal. We introduce ourselves politely. We do not mention the pool. We do not mention the woman. We do not mention any aquatic activities, aquatic mammals, or aquatic mistakes.”
Dominic nodded urgently. “We treat him like a regular old white man. An OWM.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Exactly. He is thirty-five. That is, like, ancient in male years. His knees probably crack when he stands up. He probably says things like ‘ah, that hits the spot’ after drinking water.”
Dominic made the sign of the cross. “He definitely wears socks to sleep. And drinks black coffee without sugar. Probably from a mug that says ‘World’s Best Negotiator.’”
Sophia’s eyes widened in horror. “He reads emails at midnight. For fun.”
Dominic gasped. “My God. He says ‘circle back.’ And means it.”
Sophia placed a hand on her chest. “Tragic,” she whispered.
They reached Imperial Ridge 804.
Sophia inhaled, squared her shoulders, and knocked.
The door opened.
And…
Both their brains simply died.
Standing there was not an “old German lawyer.”
Standing there was a six foot five federal crime of a man.A war crime.A UNESCO-protected monument.
Broad shoulders. Jaw cut from Alpine granite. Day-old stubble that somehow looked expensive. Dark brown hair that had texture theology behind it. And green eyes so sharp they looked like they were imported, taxed, and insured.
Dominic made a noise that sounded like a collapsing accordion.
Sophia forgot how to stand upright and briefly considered lying down on the floor to cope.
Christoph Richter looked at them with mild confusion, the expression of a man who had opened his door to find two civilians experiencing spiritual crises.
“Ms. Almeda,” he said, voice low and illegal in several conservative countries. “Mr…?”
“Dominic,” Dominic squeaked. “But you can call me tonight. Or tomorrow. Or forever.”
Sophia elbowed him so hard his soul left his body.
Christoph stepped aside. “Please come in.”
They entered.
Sophia’s brain: buffering.Dominic’s brain: blue-screened.Christoph’s brain: entirely normal because he had no idea he had just obliterated their will to live.
Dominic leaned toward Sophia, eyes wild.
“Okay, I take everything back,” he whispered frantically. “This man is NOT ancient. He is not thirty-five. He is thirty-five blessings from God. He is thirty-five reasons to go to church. Sophia, this man is not a lawyer. He is a guardian angel assigned to audit my sins.”
“Shut up,” Sophia hissed, mortified. “Behave.”
“I cannot behave,” Dominic whispered. “He looks like a billionaire Norse deity on vacation. Why did you not warn me? Why did you let me walk in here unprepared? My heart rate is doing renc.”
Sophia glared. “Dominic!”
He clutched her arm. “Sophia, this man is so hot I need SPF 50 just to exist near him.”
She closed her eyes in agony.
Christoph turned slightly, looking over his shoulder as if sensing the chaos.
Both Sophia and Dominic snapped into polite, rigid silence so fast it could have given them whiplash.
“I cannot behave,” Dominic whispered again. “You did not tell me he looked like THAT.”
“How would I know?!” she whispered back in panic. “I thought he was a regular German guy. Like… sausage and beer. Oktoberfest. Functional shoes.”
Dominic stared at Christoph’s back. “That is not functional shoes. That is a man who steps on your heart and leaves a print.”
Christoph turned slightly. “Is something wrong?”
“No!” Sophia squeaked. “Everything is normal! Everything is… functioning!”
Dominic nodded aggressively. “Yes sir, fully functioning, absolutely operational!”
Sophia slapped her face internally.
Christoph gestured toward the table. “Have a seat.”
They sat. Sophia held her folder like a rosary.
Dominic leaned in again.
“I cannot believe the hyena girl had THIS,” he whispered. “God is unfair.”
“Stop it,” she hissed.
“I mean, look at him!” Dominic continued, voice low but chaotic. “How can someone look like a Calvin Klein model and apparently have… extracurricular skill? That is illegal. Choose one. Sir, why do you have both? Share the blessings.”
Sophia kicked his ankle under the table.
“Ow!”
Christoph looked up. “Are you two alright?”
“Yes!” they chorused.
Sophia cleared her throat and handed him the folder. “Here, legal documents. Marketing. Things.”
He nodded. “Thank you. We will go through them section by section.”
Dominic leaned in to whisper again, because he had a death wish.
“I take everything back,” he murmured. “Remember when I said gorgeous men are usually bad in bed because they rely on their looks? I was wrong. I was so wrong. This man is gorgeous AND…. According to our ears… very well-equipped in… teamwork.”
Sophia almost choked on air. “Dominic. I swear—”
“International collaboration, Sophie,” he whispered sagely. “A global partnership.”
Christoph looked between them again, now visibly suspicious.
Sophia laughed nervously. “We are just excited! Big project! Yay marketing!”
Christoph nodded slowly. “Alright.”
He began flipping through pages, eyes scanning with terrifying precision.
Dominic leaned back, whispering one last time.
“Sophia. Girl. Good luck. You are meeting with a man who looks like he files taxes beautifully and breaks hearts recreationally.”
Sophia took a deep breath.
This was going to be the longest legal meeting of her life.
And the most traumatizing.And possibly the most distracting.
Because Christoph Richter was many things.Lead counsel.A cold, unreadable man.An intimidating genius.
And, unfortunately…
Hyena Man.
- Writer
