CHAPTER ONE – First encounter
If I'd known this was how it would turn out, I think, staring at my boss as he barks out his royal command of the day, wouldn't be that bad . And nothing scares me more every morning than the idea that Mr. James will actually come to the office, but today… today is on another level entirely. I don't even know if I'll survive this.
And you're probably wondering what happened, right? Well, let me start from the beginning.
Isabella Torres, 'Isa' for short, is your average twenty three year old girl in theory. In reality, she's the girl other girls glance at twice and look away from with gritted teeth. A slim figure with all the right curves. Natural pale-champagne hair that tumbles down to her waist. Beneath dark lashes, her rare amber-gold eyes almost mirror her hair. They're so bright she had to fake a need for prescription glasses to dull their impact. She dresses in plain blouses and boxy skirts, low-heeled shoes, and the thick-framed glasses to complete her "invisible" look. But even that isn't enough; her natural grace makes even a crowded room feel like a stage.
All Isa ever wanted was to make enough money to buy a beach house far from human interaction, with her orange tabby cat Anastasia for company. That's why, three years out of college, she's still working at Crown & Ivy Events as a junior event coordinator, strict boss, no holidays allowed.
This morning, the office buzzed with the usual low-level panic. Phones ringing, heels clacking, everyone pretending not to breathe too loudly. My phone chimed; the caller ID flashed "James Office."
James: "Torres. My office. Now."
I exhaled and whispered to Clara at the next desk.
Isa: "Wish me luck."
Clara: "He's in a mood today."
She straightens her skirt, adjusted her glasses and walked the gauntlet to his door.
He didn't look up when she stepped in. Cranky, middle-aged, his thinning hair combed back in a slick that fooled no one. His voice had that gravelly edge that made interns tremble.
James: "Close the door."
She quickly obeyed.
Isa: "Good morning, Mr. James."
James: "Sit."
She didn't dare sit comfortabl, she could only perchon the edge of the chair.
Isa: "Is something wrong?"
He finally looked at Isa over the rim of his glasses.
James: "Do you always assume you're in trouble?"
Isa (muttering): "Only on days ending with Y…"
James: "What?"
Isa: "Nothing, sir."
He reached into a folder and slid a glossy brochure across the desk. The Kremlin glowed on the cover in the snow.
James: "Congratulations. Miss Torres, You've been selected for the company's travel program. Two weeks. Moscow. All expenses paid."
She blinked.
Isa: "I… what? Travel program?"
James: "You've worked three years here with no holiday. The board approved a paid leave and an all-expenses trip to Russia. You're to explore the city and have a nice rest. Flight leaves Saturday."
Isa: "Saturday? That's in two days!"
James: "Correct." He leaned back, expression unreadable. "While you're there you'll also explore the city, if you meet any good partners for the company you must remember to connect with them."
My hands tightened on the brochure.
Isa: "I thought it was a vacation."
He gave a humorless chuckle.
James: "Call it whatever you want, Torres. Pack your bags. You're representing Crown & Ivy."
Isa: "Sir, I"
James: "That's all, you can go back to your post now"
Back at her desk, Clara was waiting, eyes wide.
Clara: "Tell me it's true!"
She held up the brochure weakly.
Isa: "It's true. Russia."
It's not that Isa doesn't want to go for a vacation in Russia, but, this just came out of the blue, and nobody takes anything from someone that has never shown you any smile for the past three years and smiles happily.
Clara (hissing): "You witch. I put my name in that draw a dozen times."
Isa: "I didn't even know there was a draw."
Clara: "Exactly. He likes you."
Isa: "No, he doesn't."
Clara: "Uh-huh. Well, good luck with Mr. Iceberg. I heard the Russian partners are…" She lowered her voice. "Mafia-level rich."
I rolled my eyes.
"It's just a vacation trip, not like I'm going to meet the company's partners " Isa grumbles
"Keep telling yourself that. Don't forget to send me pictures." Clara snaps at her and focuses back to her desk.
She stared down at the brochure again. Red domes, icy streets, a world she'd only ever seen on TV. All expenses paid. Networking events.rich folks. Her stomach fluttered.
"What did I just get myself into?" Isa whispers to herself
Two days later :Moscow.
Snowflakes twirled down like confetti as the plane doors opened. Her phone buzzed with a final message from Mr. James:
James (text): "Company appreciates your three years with no leave. Two weeks. Paid. Explore. Rest. Return ready to work."
She stared hard at it and muttered under her breath.
Isa: "Could've just said 'vacation' like a normal person."
The arrivals hall smelled of coffee and jet fuel. A man in a black coat held a sign: TORRES.
Driver: "Miss Torres?"
Isa: "Yes, that's me."
He took her suitcase.
Driver: "Hotel resort already booked. Forty minutes drive."
She texts Clara as they rolled through the icy streets:
Isa (text): "Made it. Snow everywhere. Looks like a postcard."
Clara (text): "Send pics!!! Also don't get kidnapped."
She huffs softly.
Isa (murmuring): "Not funny."
The hotel resort rose like a palace, warm lights behind frosted glass.
Receptionist: "Welcome, Miss Torres. Two weeks all-inclusive. Spa, guided tours, room service."
Isa: "Thank you. Wow."
That night Isa unpacked plain blouses and skirts, lined up her glasses on the nightstand, and whispered to Anastasia's photo on her phone:
Isa: "We should've come together, kitty. You'd love this."
The next morning.
She pulled on a white shirt, black pants, her favorite strappy sandals, rebellion against the cold, and combed her hair back. She already had a destination planned, to The famous Russia Red square,
Outside, Red Square glimmered. The colorful onion domes of Saint Basil's Cathedral looked like candy in the snow. Isa snapped photos and sent them to Clara, and murmuring to herself
"This can't be real."
A tour guide waves at her to come over.
Guide: "English?"
Isa: "Yes."
Guide: "Welcome to Moscow's heart. Saint Basil's Cathedral, built in the 16th century, "
She half listens, her eyes drinking in the colors. When suddenly her stomach growled. After the tour she ducked into a nearby restaurant.
Waiter: "Table for one?"
Isa: "Yes, please."
Waiter: "Borscht? Pelmeni?"
Isa: "Surprise me."
She sent Clara a photo of the soup.
Clara (text): "You look like a tourist. Cute sandals."
Isa (text): "Don't mock my sandals."
After lunch she returned to the hotel resort, napped, then set out again at dusk for the Kreplin and the Iman the Great Bell Tower. Golden light spilled over cobblestones; a crowd pressed forward around the entrance.
Isa (to herself): "Okay, quick look, then back before dark."
The crowd surged suddenly.
Isa: "Hey! wait "
She stumbled, glasses sliding down her nose. Someone jostled her sideways, and in seconds she was off the main path
Isa (calling): "Excuse me? Hello?"
No answer. The noise of the tour faded behind me. An alley curved between ancient brick walls. Her sandals clicked softly. Then a sound, a muffled cry.
She stopped.
Isa (whisper): "What… was that?"
She edged closer, Around the corner, under a broken streetlamp, a man knelt over another man. His coat hung open, dark hair falling like ink as he moved with lethal grace. The other man sagged, a knife glinting.
Her breath caught in her throat, this man wasn't just handsome, he was unreal. An Adonis, he doesn't even need to pull off his clothes for Isa to know that he was ripped, Gosh!!
Her voice came out high and thin:
"Please, can someone tell me why this delectable Adonis is killing a man here…
What did I just walk into?!!"