Page 4 of Torn Souls

I don’t doubt that we’ll be the ones left standing when it matters most. What I don’t know is how many scars we will be forced to wear in the aftermath.

CHAPTER 2

KIRILL

As I walk off the elevator to head toward my office, the first person I see is Betty. Considering she’s the receptionist for my floor, she’s right where she should be, but that doesn’t stop annoyance from flooding my system. What started out as a great working relationship, one where she showcased her competency, has been devolving.

How did I not see that she’s just an opportunistic woman? Why am I even surprised?

Her job isn’t complicated or taxing. Maxim, Baker, and Huck deal with their own schedules. The only schedule she is in charge of is mine. Hell, Maxim acts as my personal assistant more than she does. She’s expected to be the face of my floor, but lately she’s been trying to spend more time in my office than at the reception desk. How the hell can she hear the phone ringing from all the way in my office?

Most of the people she’s dealing with work underneath me. I’ve made sure to hire competent people who are good at their jobs. I don’t have time to run every division of the business I’m still in the process of building here.

The people who work for me have no idea about the other world I walk in, the world where darkness reigns and violence iscurrency. The work done in this building is legitimate, but I’m sure the people here have their suspicions about the man behind the public persona.

They can keep their thoughts, and speculations, to themselves.

Betty flashes me a bright smile, but it dims when I barely spare her a glance and keep walking. It takes less than a second before the sound of her heels on the floor follows me. I’m barely able to suppress a snarl of annoyance.

Why can’t I get even five minutes of fucking peace?

I’m sitting at my desk and starting up my computer as Betty glides into my office. Being in the same room with her, alone, sets my teeth on edge. Keeping one eye on her, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Maxim.

“I just wanted to go over your schedule, Mr. Volkov,” Betty chirps.

When she steps closer, my throat closes up as the sickly sweet and floral scent of her perfume washes over me. I try breathing through my mouth, but then it’s like I can taste the way she smells. It’s disgusting.

Leaning back away from her, she doesn’t take the hint. “Betty,” I growl, my voice a warning.

Her eyes flash at me, trying to look innocent. I don’t believe it for a second. “Oh,” she demurs, “right, you can pull up your calendar.”

She takes a step back, but it’s not even close to being far enough away. Pulling up my calendar, she taps on the tablet she’s holding and starts to walk me through my day.

Even though she’s doing her job, I’m annoyed. It takes everything in me not to snap at her and tell her I’m very fucking capable of reading the calendar.

Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that she has a job and she’s doing it. If only her tits weren’t practically spilling out of her top.

As if that would entice me.

She’s not my type.

It’s not like Betty isn’t beautiful. She is. I learned a long time ago that having someone attractive and capable as a receptionist or assistant can help in the business world. I won’t argue about whether it’s right or not because it’s a means to an end.

Her beauty is a weapon. One she uses. Why shouldn’t I do the same?

Lesser men have been brought to their knees or knocked completely off their game by luscious legs, a nice set of tits, and a pretty face.

“Ralph sent an email out this morning and asked for the meeting you had scheduled for today to be pushed back until tomorrow,” her voice is soft with a hint of timidity.

She knows this information won’t go over well with me. Ralph heads up the commercial real estate side of my business. It’s one of the most profitable, but in the last few months I’ve noticed a shift. Either Ralph isn’t doing his job or someone underneath him is undermining his authority.

Neither option is acceptable.

My eyes are sharp as I look at Betty who can’t hide the grimace on her face. My voice is cold, “Did he give a reason whyhe needed to change the date and time of our meeting? The same meeting that has been on the books for over a week?”

Betty takes a deep breath and tries to straighten her shoulders. Still, I can see the strain she tries to hide.

She might not know about the other side of my business dealings, doesn’t really know who I am in this city, but she can feel the power coming off me. And how pissed off I am.

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