If I do a few hours overtime, I can easily get it done and not have to stress about it all weekend.

The problem is that it’s lines and lines of spreadsheet information that I need to transfer from a rough plan into a proper presentable document. My eyes are burning, and my head is beginning to throb from the endless lines of writing.

But I keep pushing, because it’s what I do.

And when I glance at my watch at seven o'clock, I reckon I have another hour to go before I’m done.

The office is so quiet. The light over my desk is practically the only one on down here on the ground floor, but a few lights are still burning upstairs in the managers' section.

“Okay, Tia, focus and get this done. Then you can go home and have that left over mac and cheese and sleep.” All I want to do right now is sleep.

I need another coffee, but I’ve already had four today and that’s two past my limit, so it won’t do me any good.

I sigh in frustration and rub at my eyes, trying to wake myself up.

But no matter how hard I try, my eyes just keep getting heavier.

Chapter 2 - Yefim

Since I moved to Boston it’s been nonstop work.

I am determined to prove to the world that the Dubrovs have a right to be here. We are where we belong now, and if we work hard enough, we will make such a big name for ourselves we will never be doubted again.

My cousins have lived in Boston much longer than we have, and they have already created a strong name for their family. It made starting a business here easier. We all work together and support each other—a strong family and a strong force to reckon with.

Living in Russia was hard. It shaped me and molded me into who I am today.

My older brother, Leon, left home a few years after my parents were murdered. But even in those years that he was still around, he had been a different person—dark, cold, empty and numb. He wasn’t himself. He didn’t pay attention to anything around him, only to his growing and all-consuming need for revenge.

Leon came to Boston for revenge. I came for my family.

My brothers and my sister. We all deserve more than the shitty hand we were dealt in Russia. We never deserved to lose our parents like that, or the hardships that followed.

So, I’m not here for power or money. I’m here to make a point. I’m here to let the world know that we are better than our past—and we can have anything we want in our future.

***

I glance at my watch late on Friday, still sitting at my office desk, and sigh.

Building a great future means many hours of dedication to work.

I’ve been making late night calls to our clients in other time zones. Something I have to do often. But now it’s almost half past eight, and the office is quiet. I’m starting to get hungry, but I still have a few more calls to make.

I lean back in my chair and look out into the ground floor office space below me. It’s usually dark by this time, but I can see one of my employees must have left their light on at their desk.

I need a walk anyway, so I’ll go turn it off.

When I get back, I’ll finish up the last of the calls and then head home.

I stroll out of my office and down the stainless-steel staircase, each step I take echoing in the vast quiet space. With my hands in my pockets, I walk towards the single light burning from the desk ahead.

When I get closer, I feel myself becoming annoyed.

There is a girl sleeping at her desk. What the fuck is this?

I stare at her, wanting to wake her up but unsure how to go about doing that. She is resting her head on her arms, folded over a binder of paperwork, and the laptop in front of her has automatically turned itself off.

“Ahem.” I clear my throat, but she doesn’t even stir.