Late Night Strategy
960 Words
Arin POV)
The building was silent at night. Most of the staff had gone home hours ago, leaving Kovaar Global wrapped in soft shadows and the faint hum of servers working endlessly. This was how I preferred the office. Quiet. Controlled. Predictable.
I sat in my private conference room with the city skyline stretching behind me. London glittered in the glass like scattered diamonds. My laptop glowed on the table, spreadsheets open, reports lined neatly beside them.
But the document at the top of the stack was not a financial report.
It was Ivanna Volkov’s orientation file.
I told myself I was only reviewing her performance because she was new and worked directly under my department. That was the logical reason. The appropriate one. The safe one.
Yet the truth sat closer to the edge of something I did not want to name.
I opened her latest work. Notes from the system audit. A breakdown of workflow bottlenecks. A full mapping of the onboarding database. Her analysis was sharp. Clean. Thoughtful. She saw patterns others missed.
She was better than I expected.
Better than most people here.
My jaw tightened as I scrolled through her comments. Her mind worked with a quiet precision that drew my attention again and again. And I hated that it drew more than just my attention.
I shifted back in my chair and exhaled slowly.
This was a problem.
I did not have room for… distractions. Not from her. Not from anyone.
A soft knock on the glass drew my focus. I looked up.
Ivanna stood just outside the room, holding a small stack of papers, her expression hesitant. Her hair fell gently over her shoulder, catching the faint glow of the city lights. Her cream blouse was tucked into a simple black skirt that hugged her waist. She looked delicate in the dimness. Almost too delicate for this place.
She opened the door slowly. "Sir. I was not sure if you were still working."
"I am" I said, more sharply than I intended.
She stepped inside anyway.
"I thought I should leave these on your desk before going home." She placed the papers neatly beside me. Then she looked up, her eyes soft but tired. "You have been here long today."
"I often am."
"That does not make it healthy."
I raised a brow. "Are you concerned about me, Miss Volkov."
She faltered, catching herself, and looked down at her hands. "Only making an observation."
I motioned to the seat across from me. I was not sure why. I simply did.
She sat.
The room felt smaller when she did.
Her presence had a strange effect on the air. It made everything feel too still. Too focused. Too aware. I watched the way she smoothed the fabric of her skirt. The way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The way her breathing softened as she settled.
"Your audit notes are impressive" I said.
She blinked. "They are."
I almost smiled. Almost.
"You are confident in your work."
"Only when I know I did it well."
I leaned forward slightly. "And you know you did."
Her lips curved. Just barely. A quiet, warm smile that reached her eyes. It did something unusual to me. Something I did not like.
Or maybe liked too much.
There was a moment between us. Something fragile. Something unspoken. A tension as thin as glass. One wrong move and it would shatter. One right move and it would change everything.
Her gaze drifted to the skyline behind me.
"London looks different from up here" she whispered.
"Everything looks different from the top."
"I am still getting used to all of it."
I watched her profile. The gentle slope of her cheek. The soft line of her jaw. She looked young but carried something older inside her. Something heavy.
"You are fitting in" I said.
"I am trying."
"You are succeeding."
She turned her head toward me again, and our eyes met. That was the moment the air shifted. No movement. No words. Just a quiet pull between us that should not have existed.
My control slipped for a second.
A very long second.
I forced myself to look away. "You should get home. It is late."
"Will you be here much longer" she asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Then..." She hesitated. "Make sure you sleep, sir."
I did not answer. She stood, gathered herself, and walked toward the door. The soft rhythm of her steps echoed across the room.
But before she stepped out, she turned one more time. Her voice barely above a whisper.
"Good night, Arin."
She had never said my name like that before.
It stayed with me long after the door closed.
***
I leaned back in my chair and dragged a hand through my hair. This was becoming dangerous. Too much attention. Too much interest. Too much of her in places she did not belong.
I forced my focus back to her file.
Personal information. Education. References. All standard. Then I reached the employment section.
Something was missing.
A three year gap in her history.
No job listed. No explanation. No documentation.
Just... empty.
My brow furrowed. That was not normal. Not for someone recruited at her level. Not for someone with skills that polished.
I sat up straighter and went through it again.
Three entire years.
Gone.
Why would she hide that.
What exactly happened during that time.
And why did I have the feeling she would never tell me the truth.
I closed the file slowly.
This was not a coincidence. Not a mistake.
Something about Ivanna Volkov did not add up.
And for the first time, a cold suspicion settled under my skin.
There was more to her.
Much more.
- Writer
