Anna maintained a calm expression as the jet moved smoothly across the sky, but inside, her thoughts were racing. She hadn't anticipated still being in this situation. Not when she first stepped into Velvet Circle three years ago. Back then, it was out of desperation. Her mother had been ill for months, and hospital bills were piling up faster than Anna could open the envelopes. The insurance barely covered anything, and her small administrative job barely paid the rent.
She still remembered the night she spoke with the doctor outside her mother's hospital room. The figures he shared sounded surreal—treatments, specialists, private care—all beyond her means. She nodded politely, trying to convey understanding, but inside, she was lost, wondering how she could Thisrd any of it.
Two weeks later, a friend gently mentioned Velvet Circle. At first, Anna had laughed, trying to find some humor amidst her despair. But when she returned home and opened the last hospital invoice on her kitchen table, the laughter faded.
The agency had been discreet, professional, almost unnervingly organized. They interviewed her as if she were applying for a high-level position—complete with background checks, personality assessments, and etiquette training. When she left that building with the name Elena Vale, it felt less like a scandal and more like stepping into a costly secret.
She told herself it was temporary—just until her mother recovered, just until the bills were paid, just until she could breathe easier. But life has a way of turning temporary decisions into years. Her mother's health improved gradually, yet the medical expenses never fully disappeared.
And then something unexpected happened: Anna discovered she was good at the work. Not the obvious parts, but the listening, the understanding, the ability to sit across from powerful men and make them feel heard. Some clients barely touched her; they simply talked. Others sought the illusion of control. Anna learned how to give them what they thought they wanted, all while maintaining her own composure. That rule of hers—the need to stay in control—had always been her anchor.
Then Adrian Volkov entered her life. Securing a position at Volkov International felt like the start of an escape. Adrian paid his staff generously—the salaries, bonuses, performance incentives, and confidentiality allowances—all reflected his regard. By the end of her first year, Anna realized she no longer needed Velvet Circle. She had considered quitting—several times, even drafting her resignation email. But something always held her back—timing, fear of burning bridges, or the strange thrill of leading a double life.
During the day, she was the quiet, efficient secretary outside Adrian's office. But at night, she entered rooms where billionaires stood, listened when they spoke, and became Elena Vale—part of their world. It was intoxicating, in a way Anna couldn't fully explain. So she promised herself she would leave soon. Working for Adrian had been a turning point. He paid well, more than enough, and if she stayed another year, she could finally close the chapter with Velvet Circle for good—find stability, focus on her work, and care for her mother.
She glanced at Adrian, watching him look out the window as the city lights faded into darkness over the open ocean. Unknowingly, he had become her exit strategy—the stable life she'd never imagined could be hers. And now, sitting across from him as Elena Vale, the irony was almost too much to bear.
If everything went as planned, this trip would be her last booking. Her final act. Afterward, she would leave Velvet Circle behind, focus on her job, care for her mother, and pursue a normal life. She took a small sip of whiskey, but inside, a quiet voice whispered something she didn't want to admit—normal life had never made her pulse race the way danger did. And right now, sitting across from Adrian Volkov with secrets layered between them like glass walls, she could feel the familiar, dangerous thrill beginning to emerge.