Every step feels like a lie. I’m showing confidence and power. But inside, I’m screaming.
I reach Sarah's desk.
She jumps as if I've electrocuted her, scrambling to her feet and clutching a tablet to her chest.
"Miss Blackwood!" she squeaks. Her eyes dart to Konstantin, then back to me, wide with panic. "I... we were worried. You didn't come in yesterday, and your phone was off. Mr. Rossi called three times, he said… "
"I'm fine, Sarah," I interrupt. "I had personal matters to attend to."
"Oh." She swallows hard.
Her gaze drops to my neck, lingering for a fraction of a second too long on the bruise barely hidden by the concealer.
She knows. "Is... is everything okay?"
I want to grab her shoulders and tell her to run. I want to scream, "Call the police! This man is a monster!"
But Konstantin's presence behind me and the weight of his threat against my father keep me in line.
"Everything is fine," I lie. "This is Mr. Morozov. He’s consulting with us on the restructuring."
"Restructuring?" she echoes, voice trembling. "Are we being acquired?"
"It’s a partnership," Konstantin explains, commanding instant attention as he steps around me, offering Sarah a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "We’re here to save the ship. You have nothing to worry about as long as everyone does their job."
It’s a threat dressed as advice.
She nods quickly, understanding the coded language. "Yes. Of course. Sir."
"Miss Blackwood and I have a great deal to discuss," Konstantin says. "Hold all calls. Cancel her appointments for the morning, and send in the file I requested."
"The legal file?"
"Yes. The one the courier delivered an hour ago."
Sarah eyes me, confused. I have no idea what file she’s talking about, but I can't let her stall.
"Do it," I say softly.
She nods and sinks back down, her hands shaking as she reaches for the phone.
Konstantin opens the double doors to the CEO's office. He stands back, mocking me with a gesture of chivalry as I slip inside.
It’s a large corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. This was my father's quarters for twenty years, but I’ve made it mine. My books are on the shelves; my mother's photo is on the desk.
But as soon as Konstantin steps in and closes the door, locking it, the room shrinks. He sucks the oxygen out of the space.
He walks past me, ignoring the guest chairs, and goes straight to the massive mahogany desk. He walks around it and stands behind my chair, running a hand along the leather headrest.
"Nice view," he comments, looking out at the gray water and the cranes.
"Get away from there," I say.
"It’s a position of power," he muses, ignoring me. "You can see everything from here. The ships coming in. The storms rolling off the Atlantic. It makes you feel like a god, doesn't it?"
He turns to face me, leaning his hips against the back of my chair.
"But you are not a god, Helena. You are a girl watching her legacy sink."
