Whispers in the Wind

CHAPTER THREE

"I could never understand how you like this romance crap," I groaned, my eyes glued to the sappy movie my sister was watching.

From her position on the floor, she looked up at me lying lazily on the couch, her expression a mix of amusement and annoyance.

"It isn’t crappy. Your taste in life is just too dark sometimes. This is what most girls our age watch." I rolled my eyes and flung a throw pillow at her, which she deftly dodged with a laugh.

She giggled and turned back to the TV, her eyes sparkling with enjoyment.

Zara, my younger sister, had been a bundle of joy and excitement ever since I called to meet up with her. She was the one good thing about coming back here. Her presence felt like a warm hug after a long, cold journey.

Facially, we shared the same structure and could have been mistaken for twins if not for our skin color. While she leaned more towards the whiter side of our heritage, with mid-length black hair, I was brown-skinned with warm undertones and tightly coiled long black curly hair.

But our differences didn't stop there. She was far more different than I was in every way that counted.

She was younger by a year and she was good. Kind. She spent her days tutoring and babysitting kids, while I... well, I did unspeakable things. The worst crime she ever committed was having a couple of drinks before turning twenty-one. Our childhood left her view of the world virtually unscathed, and not to be cocky, but I’ve been doing my best to ensure it remained that way, even from cities away.

She was also one of the reasons I went down the path I did, to protect her from the darkness I navigated.

"So, how is LA? Home of Hollywood must be quite the place of entertainment," she began, turning to face me as her romance movie ended.

I nodded, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "Not bad. It’s a laid-back place with a relaxing vibe, like you could spend your entire life on vacation there."

I crawled to the floor and lay beside her, our heads touching as we stared at the ceiling.

She was still smiling, a hopeful glint in her eyes. "So, is this whole thing permanent?" I didn't miss the near desperation in her voice with that question.

"I'm not sure yet. What I am sure about is that I’ll be here for a while. I've even gotten a job here."

"What job?"

"Personal Assistant at Russo Corp. I went to their final interview today and I passed."

John and I were always playing risky games with deadly consequences, so we agreed that the only other survivors in our family should stay far away from our secret life.

Pristine and Zara have zero idea what we do. Never had, never will.

"In a week! That's impressive. I hear they give some of their employees accommodation in their hotel, Vynetria," she teased, nudging me playfully.

“It’s a nice place. Word has it that’s where celebrities lodge in the city. But I don’t think I want to stay in that hotel. This place seems good enough to me,” I said, looking around the cozy apartment.

“Hmm. Your choice.”

She bit her lip in what seemed like hesitation, a shadow crossing her face.

“Zina, you know it’s been so long since we were together face-to-face.”

“Yes?” I prompted, sensing something deeper behind her words.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Just be careful. There are a lot of rumors that the Russos aren’t good people, that they do a lot of evil in the shadows. I don’t want you to get involved with anything they do.”

You have no idea…

I smiled reassuringly, taking her hand in mine. “I’ll be careful if that’s what you’re saying.”

She nodded with a small, relieved smile. “You have to get some sleep now. This isn’t like your usual jobs. No more sleeping till ten; you’ll be up by seven tomorrow if you want to make a good impression.”

I groaned again and stood up, pulling her up with me. “Alright, alright. I’ll go to bed.”

***************************************************

The next day...

Just as Zara said, I was up by 7 a.m all thanks to the alarm she had set for me. The harsh beeping dragged me from the depths of a dream, and with a frustrated groan, I padded to the bathroom to prepare for my first day at work.

Yay!

It took me more than two hours to get through my entire routine, which wouldn’t usually be a problem if my hair wasn’t behaving like an unruly beast. I fought with it, cursing under my breath, before finally taming the curls into a presentable state.

Unpopular opinion: Girls with curly hair deserve an award.

Luckily, my cab arrived on time, and minutes later, I was standing in front of the tall, imposing building once more. My heart pounded in my chest as I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

I walked straight to the elevator and to the familiar floor where my new boss’s office was. The hallways were a maze of sleek design and muted colors, exuding an air of sophistication and power.

I knocked once and waited for a reply, but none came. So I stepped in cautiously to the empty office, now noticing its impeccable furnishings. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and leather, mingling with the scent of fresh coffee.

I calmly walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk. The breathtaking view encompassed almost everything in the city: impatient drivers trying to get to work, unbothered pedestrians minding their own business, busy harbors…

“It’s good to see that you value time, Miss Aurelis,” a husky accented voice pulled my attention back to the door, where a tall, dark figure stood with a hand in his pocket.

“Hello, Mr. Russo,” I greeted with a small smile and walked back to the front of the desk. His eyes, normally caramel brown in colour, darkened for a brief moment into a deeper, dark molten gold hue before flickering back again almost instantaneously.

Intriguing!

He, in turn, leaned on the large mahogany desk and faced me, caramel eyes locking onto mine, holding my gaze in a dominating way. His presence was magnetic, almost overwhelming.

I imagine many people struggled to hold that gaze. I wouldn't be one of them.

“Welcome to your new position, Miss Aurelius.”

“Thank you.” Then, after a moment, “Where do I start?”

He took a gray laptop from his desk and handed it to me. His fingers brushed mine for a brief moment, sending an unexpected jolt through me.

"You’ll manage my calendar, schedule appointments, and coordinate meetings. Handle my correspondence, organize meetings, prepare agendas, take minutes, and follow up on action items. Arrange all travel plans, including flights, accommodations, and itineraries for me and any partner as needed. You’ll also run personal errands, manage household tasks, oversee office supplies and equipment, and organize important documents. Assist with special projects, research, and reports. Plan events and handle expense reports, ensuring timely processing of invoices and payments. Did you get that?”

I nodded, my mind racing to keep up.

“Good. First of all, some files have been sent to your email already. Review them and give me the go-ahead to sign them.”

“Review them?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a flicker of doubt.

He shrugged, casting a challenging gaze my way. “Your record says you studied business analytics and finished with a master's degree. So I expect you should be able to analyze these business contracts and get back to me.”

I released a breath and carefully placed the laptop inside my handbag. “Understood.”

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Giovanni's eyes flickered to someone behind me briefly, then back to me.

"I have a meeting at 10:30," he stated, glancing at his undoubtedly expensive wristwatch. "Jerome will show you to your office."

He picked up a folder from his table. "Any questions?"

His tone was brusque, ever so formal and businesslike, but there was a glimmer of something else in his eyes—something deep and intense, like a smoldering fire.

I shook my head. "No. That’ll be all."

His lips curved into a small grin. "Welcome to the team, Miss Aurelius."

"Thank you, Mr. Russo."

There it was again!

That dark look. It flashed over his eyes again, leaving me feeling intrigued.

“Right this way,” the dark-blonde man said, moving aside for me to walk out.