LADY OF THE NIGHT

ANDREA “That would be all for the meeting today, ma’am,” Sarah says, closing the file in front of her as the last of the executives from Mauzan Fashion Home begin to gather their things. “Okay then,” I reply, leaning back slightly in my chair after six straight hours of negotiations. “Send in the file for Mr. Chad’s document if it’s ready for signing and send out the documents to Mr. Ebenezer in France for his signature so we can commence supply.” “Yes, ma’am,” Sarah says quickly, jotting down the instructions. The conference room slowly empties, leaving only the faint smell of coffee and the tension that had filled the air throughout the meeting. My shoulders ache from sitting upright for hours, but the satisfaction warming my chest makes the discomfort almost irrelevant. I just finished closing a deal that will push The Smirnov Group several steps closer to dominating the international fashion supply market and if everything proceeds as planned, this single contract alone could place us among the top textile suppliers globally within the next year. Not bad for someone they once said was too young and too inexperienced. As an executive, I am the youngest in the company’s history, and not only that, I am also the only woman seated among a boardroom full of men who have spent decades building their reputations. Sarah, my assistant, once joked that I walked into the company like a hurricane in heels. Maybe she isn’t wrong. After studying Business Administration in the United States and graduating earlier than expected, returning home to Russia felt like stepping into a battlefield disguised as a corporate office and my parents had always dreamed of seeing me lead the family legacy, the family business meant a lot to mom but after their deaths, that dream became the one thing I refused to let go of. Now is the time to make them proud. Unfortunately, my presence hasn’t made everyone happy. The older executives make little effort to hide their displeasure and being both the youngest and the only female executive means they are constantly searching for ways to downplay my achievements. They whisper during meetings and question my strategies while acting as though my success is nothing more than beginner’s luck but results speak louder than opinions and the deals I close are enough to shut them up. Walking back to my office after the exhausting meeting, my heels click against the marble floors of the headquarters, employees greet me as I pass, some with genuine respect, others with the cautious politeness people use when they aren’t quite sure how to approach someone in power. The six-hour negotiation had been intense and convincing one of the largest fashion houses in Arabia to partner with us was no easy task. The Mauzan Fashion House is known for working only with companies they absolutely trust but yet today, after hours of presentations, counteroffers, and tense silence across the table, they finally agreed. The Smirnov Group will supply materials for their upcoming luxury lines and that’s a massive win. A small smile spreads across my lips as I remember the expressions on the faces of some of the executives in the meeting room from our own company, the humility written on their faces when the contract was finalized was almost priceless. I push open the glass doors leading to my section of the floor. “Bring the file to my office. Pronto,” I say to Sarah as I pass her desk. She nods immediately, already sorting through a stack of documents. “Yes, ma’am.” I enter my office, the quietness inside wrapping around me and the large windows overlook the city, giving a breathtaking view of Moscow’s skyline. It’s one of the perks of the position, though I rarely have time to admire it as work always comes first. I set my bag down and roll my shoulders slightly. If anyone were looking for flaws in my character, my inability to take breaks would definitely top the lists as once I start working, I rarely stop until everything is completed. Some people call it obsession but I call it discipline. Just as I begin organizing the papers on my desk, a knock sounds on the door and thinking it’s probably Sarah with the files already. “Come in,” I say without looking up. The door opens but when I raise my head, the person standing there is not my assistant but instead, I’m greeted by my aunt. Karenina Smirnov. Acting president and current chairman of the Smirnov Group, the rumors surrounding her are legendary within both business and social circles as some say she is a witch in human form and others claim she is the most ruthless woman in Russian corporate history. Blood spilling in the process of getting what she wants, people say, has never bothered her but personally, I have never been able to confirm whether any of that is true. What I do know is that when my parents died, she was the one who took me in but our relationship, however, has never been warm. You could describe it as tolerance on both sides, she tolerated my presence in the family and I tolerated her constant reminders that everything I have technically belongs to the Smirnov legacy. “I see you won the contract with the Mauzan Fashion House,” she says calmly. By the time I process the fact that she has entered the room, she is already seated behind my desk, in my chair. She crosses one leg over the other as if she owns not only the office but the entire building, which, technically, she does currently This isn’t unusual behavior for her. Since I returned to Russia, she has made a habit of asserting her authority in subtle but unmistakable ways like itting in my chair is one of those silent power moves. Perhaps the fact that I am expected to take over the family business soon has made her even more territorial lately. “Yes, I did,” I reply evenly. “They should be sending the documents back shortly so we can finalize the agreement.” “I guess you are lucky then,” she says, her voice dragging slightly. I hold her gaze. “I wouldn’t call it luck,” I answer calmly. “I’d call it winning fair and square.” For a moment, neither of us speaks, the tension between us stretches across the room like a thin wire ready to snap but finally, she breaks the stare. Rising from the chair, she smooths invisible dust from the front of her elegant dress, adjusting the fabric with a precise movement then she walks toward the door. Before leaving, she pauses and delivers the same line she always does. “You should come over to the main house for a family dinner soon.” Her tone is casual, but there is always something underneath it but it's something I can’t quite read and then she walks away. The door closes behind her and the moment she disappears from sight, my phone begins to ring on the desk. Perfect timing. I glance at the screen and immediately feel a wave of relief wash over me. Aurora Brambilla, my only friend and best friend I’m glad my aunt has already left. Karenina has never liked Aurora. Part of it is because Aurora is Italian, but the real reason is something else entirely and Aurora’s family connections stretch across several powerful industries, making her someone even my aunt cannot easily intimidate and Aunt Karenina hates people she cannot control. Aurora also happens to be part owner of Secure Shield Security Agency, one of the most discreet and powerful private organizations in Europe. Which means my aunt prefers to keep her distance. I quickly answer the call. “Hi,” I say quietly. “Hi,” Aurora responds, her tone unusually cryptic. My heart instantly begins to beat faster. “The deal is secure,” she continues. “Your first mission tonight at Trapped has been approved.” My fingers tighten slightly around the phone. “Okay,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady even though my pulse is pounding in my ears. For months I have been waiting for this confirmation. “Your new name is Olivia Andrew” she pauses briefly, “and your job is stripping, you resume at eight p.m. tonight. Don’t be late.” The line goes dead before I can respond and I lower the phone slowly as the room suddenly feels much quieter than before. A few minutes ago, I thought today was already one of the best days of my life as closing the Mauzan deal alone would have been enough reason to celebrate. But now? Now the day has become even better because tonight changes everything as tonight, the real work begins. I stand and walk toward the window, staring out over the city, to everyone else in this building, I am Andrea Smirnov, the rising executive of one of Russia’s most powerful companies. They believe my life revolves around contracts, board and corporate success, they have no idea that the business world is only a cover and my aunt can never find out what I do outside this life, she must never know that I secretly work for someone else or that the glamorous executive persona hides something far more dangerous for the now I take a slow breath. Tonight I will step into an entirely different world, a world where my name, my status, and my family mean absolutely nothing and if everything goes according to plan, that world will lead me to the one truth I have been chasing for years because my greatest goal in life has never been corporate success, it has never just been the Smirnov legacy. My only goal has always been one thing. Finding my parents’ killer.