He opens his mouth to say something else, but then his face changes. The blood drains from his cheeks; his eyes dart up, wide and panicked.
I turn, and suddenly my boss is there—tall, imposing, silent as a shadow. He fills the space, commanding it without a word, eyes glacial as he fixes them on the guard.
“Is there a problem?” Vasiliev asks, voice calm but edged in steel.
The guard stammers, retreating two steps. “No, sir. Just a—just a misunderstanding.”
Vasiliev doesn’t look away from him. “That’s what I thought.”
I stand frozen, the breath stolen from my lungs, trapped between embarrassment and awe. For the first time all day, someone actually sees me.
And it’shim.
I clutch my bag tighter, cheeks still burning with humiliation as I fall into step behind Aleksei. I gather my nerve, catching up just enough to speak.
“I’m sorry about the picture,” I say, keeping my voice low. “I didn’t know there were rules about photos in the lobby. And… thank you. For helping with the guard.”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. He barely glances at me. “Follow the rules next time.”
Then he’s gone, his long stride swallowing the marble floors, the tailored lines of his suit disappearing into the elevator before I can say another word.
What a rude man,I think, biting back a frustrated sigh. Maybe this is how men like him survive—icy, untouchable, always above it all. It shouldn’t sting, but it does. I need this job. No, Idesperatelyneed it, and if keeping it means swallowing my pride, I’ll do that too.
I pause by the revolving doors, open my phone, and quietly delete the picture I’d taken for Frankie. The guard’s words replay in my mind—You people. Always trying to sneak in somewhereyou don’t belong.I close my eyes, count to three, and try to shake the feeling that I really don’t belong anywhere.
The subway ride home is a blur of screeching brakes and strangers pressed too close. My reflection flickers in the window: tired eyes, messy hair, mouth pressed in a hard line. When I finally emerge into the street, the city air feels thick, too heavy for early evening.
I hurry toward my apartment, focused on the cracked pavement and the pulse of my own footsteps. But after a few blocks, a prickling sensation crawls up my neck—a shift in the air, like someone’s gaze sliding over my back. I slow, pretending to check my phone, and glance behind me.
Nothing. Just a row of empty stoops and the distant glow of a corner deli. No footsteps but my own. Still, the feeling doesn’t fade.
I quicken my pace, heart thumping, telling myself it’s just nerves after a long, miserable day. I don’t look back again until I’m safely inside, triple-locking the door behind me and sinking to the floor, wishing I could leave the whole city outside.
My phone buzzes before I’ve even kicked off my shoes. Frankie’s face fills the screen, her curls wild and her grin wide.
I swipe to answer, slumping onto the edge of my mattress. “Hey.”
She leans in close, eyebrows up. “Well?”
“What?” I say.
“I texted you. You just ignored me on my face,” she pouts. “So how was it? Your first day?”
I sigh, remembering about my embarrassing incident. “Nothing much.”
“So who’s this guy who you’re assisting for?”
“Actually,” I say. “I still haven’t been assigned any work yet.”
She shrugs. “Well, it’s still just your first day.”
“Just… I don’t know. It was overwhelming. The place is insane. And my boss—” I hesitate, searching for the right word. “He’s… rude.”
Frankie’s eyebrows jump. “Rude, huh? What, did he yell at you? Or just too hot for human decency?”
I sigh, pushing my hair out of my face. “He barely said a word. Just this cold, silent type. Tall, scary. Saved me from this jerk security guard, then acted like it was nothing.”
A wicked grin curls on her lips. “Mmm. Sounds like he’s already gotten under your skin.”
