Anastasia’s POV
It had been weeks since Killian Santoro had spoken those ominous words to me. I’d tried to push them out of my mind, rationalizing that I didn’t know him, or why he would warn me of impending doom. But as things got worse, as my father’s company teetered on the edge of collapse, those words clawed their way back into my thoughts, refusing to be silenced.
I tried everything. I reached out to Tyler, an ex-colleague with a knack for uncovering hidden details in financial audits. Together, we poured over every document, every transaction, trying to find a way to counteract the looming disaster. But no matter what we did, things kept getting worse. Salaries went unpaid, bills piled up, and the walls felt like they were closing in on me. The desperation gnawed at me, leaving me confused and angry.
One evening, in the middle of searching through yet another stack of paperwork, I stumbled upon a small, black card. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the name embossed in silver: Santoro. My mind traveled back to Killian’s warning, his calm, confident voice echoing in my head. Could he have been right?
I hesitated, clutching the card in my hand. Was reaching out to them really my best option? What choice did I have? With a deep breath, I decided to contact them, hoping against hope that this was the lifeline I needed.
I reached for my phone and dialed the number on the card. “Hello,” a voice speaks through the phone.
“Hello, my name is Anastasia and I am speaking from Winslow Enterprises, am I unto Mr Gareth,”
“Oh, hello, yes you are.”
“You said to reach out, when I changed my mind, is that still feasible?” I asked.
“Yes, it is. Erm……Would you be able to come in for a meeting?”
“Affirmative. When should I come in?” I asked politely.
“How about tomorrow morning by 9:00am?”
“That’s absolutely fine, I’ll be there tomorrow.” I responded. We exchanged final greetings before the call ended.
The next morning, I stood in front of my mirror, meticulously choosing my outfit for the meeting. I ended up settling on a navy blue sheath dress that should exude confidence and professionalism, paired with heels that I believe gave me just the right amount of height I needed. I was determined to walk into that building looking like I had everything under control, even when I felt the exact opposite inside.
But as fate would have it, just when I thought I had everything planned out, my car broke down on the way there. The engine sputtered and died, leaving me stranded on the side of the road. I could feel the panic rising in my chest as I checked the time-already cutting it close.
I was extremely close to crying. “Anastasia, breathe in and breathe out.” I told myself, performing the exercise.
After a few frantic phone calls, I managed to book a ride, but by the time it arrived, I was running late. My perfect morning had unraveled, leaving me stressed and slightly disheveled as I finally arrived at the building.
–
When I alighted from the vehicle, I found myself standing outside a sleek, high-rise building, its dark glass reflecting the city’s skyline.
Shock with awe is the emotion running through my entire body. I’d never seen anything like it-cold, intimidating, and yet undeniably beautiful. “Woah.”
My nerves were on edge as I walked through the revolving doors, feeling small in comparison to the magnificent appearance surrounding me.
I walked straight to the receptionist. “Sorry, I am here to see Kilian Santoro.” I said as calmly as possible. She made a phone call before speaking.
“Good morning ma, someone will soon be here to lead the way.” She responded. After a few minutes passed, Gareth showed up. “Good morning ma, please follow me,” I responded and followed him.
As I stepped into the elevator, I was greeted by some people already in the elevator, but I barely noticed, my mind too preoccupied with what lay ahead.
The gentle hum the elevator makes and the silent space of the elevator gave me a brief soothing moment before I faced what laid ahead. Then, as the elevator doors slid shut, I saw him. His reflection on the doors of the elevator.
My breath caught in my throat. The man standing at the back of the elevator looked familiar. Too familiar. My heart began to race as I stole glances at him, trying to place where I’d seen him before. Could it be him? Could it be the man from that night?
I shook my head, trying to focus. It couldn’t be. I was too drunk that night, and everything was a blur. But as I kept glancing at him, a small voice in the back of my mind kept on insisting that it was him.