Anya spent the next two days lost in a whirlwind of research. The fear that had held her captive for so long was slowly being replaced by a sharp, cold focus. She was no longer a victim hiding in the shadows; she was a hunter, and her prey was Alexander Volkov.
She learned everything she could about the Volkov Group. She read articles, watched interviews, and even looked at the company's financial reports. Lex Volkov was a ghost in the machine. He gave very few interviews, and when he did, he was always careful, his answers short and to the point. He was known for his icy calm and his sharp business mind. The photos she found of him were all business, all power. He always wore a perfectly tailored suit, his face a mask of cold control. This was the man who had taken her. This was the man she was going to face.
The hardest part was finding a way to get to him. The Volkov Group's headquarters was a glass tower in the heart of the city, a fortress of security. She couldn't just walk in. The thought of getting close to him, of being in the same room again, made her stomach clench. But the image of that ripped check, a symbol of his attempt to silence her, burned a fire in her. She wouldn't be bought. She wouldn't be forgotten.
Zara watched Anya's new obsession with worry. "Anya, you're not a detective. You're a student. This is dangerous. He's a powerful man."
Anya just shook her head, her eyes fixed on her laptop screen. "He's just a man, Zara. And he did something terrible. I won't let him get away with it."
Zara sighed, her voice soft and pleading. "What do you want, Anya? To confront him? To tell him what he did? He'll just deny it. He has all the power."
Anya paused. That was the central question. What did she want? She didn't want the money. She didn't want to go to the police; she knew they wouldn't believe her story against a man like him. She didn't even know if she wanted revenge. She just wanted to be seen. She wanted him to know her name, to know that she was a person, not a thing he could use and then pay off.
The answer came to her in a flash of inspiration. The Volkov Group was a huge company, but every company needed new employees. They needed people to work in the lower ranks, to do the small jobs that kept the big machine running. She saw an ad for an intern position in the company's finance department. It was a long shot, but it was a chance.
"I'm going to get a job at his company," Anya said, her voice quiet but firm.
Zara's eyes went wide. "Are you crazy? You want to work for the man who…?"
Anya cut her off. "It's the only way. I'll be an intern. He won't even know I'm there. But I'll be inside. I'll find a way to get his attention."
The plan was simple, and in a way, it was also crazy. But Anya felt a strange sense of calm about it. It was a plan. It was something she could do. She put all her energy into her resume, using every bit of her university knowledge and her high grades to make herself look perfect for the job. She sent in her application, a small prayer in her heart.
A few days later, a call came. She had an interview. Anya's heart pounded, a mix of excitement and pure terror. She practiced her answers, she bought a cheap but professional-looking suit, and she walked into the Volkov Group tower a week later, a small warrior in a big city.
The interview was with a kind, elderly woman named Mrs. Petrova. The name made Anya pause. Petrova. The same last name as her. It was a common name, but it felt like a strange sign. The interview went well. Anya was smart, her grades were excellent, and she showed a real passion for finance. Mrs. Petrova seemed to like her.
"You're a bright young lady, Anya," Mrs. Petrova said with a warm smile. "We'll be in touch."
Anya walked out of the tower, feeling a strange mix of hope and dread. She had taken the first step. She had put herself in his world.
The call came two days later. She had the job.
She was to start in a week, in a small office on the thirtieth floor. She would be an intern, a small cog in a huge machine. She was told she would not have any direct contact with the CEO, that he was a man who lived on the top floors, far away from the interns. This was exactly what she had hoped for. She would be close to him, but not so close that he would recognize her. Not yet.
Anya told Zara the news, and her friend was still scared. "Please, be careful, Anya. This is not a game. This is real life."
Anya hugged her friend tightly. "I know. But I have to do this. I have to find out why he did what he did. I have to get my life back."
She spent the next few days getting ready. She didn't just get ready for the job; she got ready for the war. She bought new, more professional clothes. She changed her hairstyle. She practiced walking with her head held high. She was no longer the small, scared girl. She was Anya Petrova, the smart intern from a good university. She was going to be a ghost in the machine, a silent shadow moving through the halls of his company. She was going to find a way to get his attention, and when she did, she would no longer be a victim. She would be a force he couldn't ignore.