Chapter 14 - Pippa
The heavy door swings open, and I step into the bustling office. I’m five minutes late because of traffic from campus to here. The chatter of keyboards and hushed conversations fills the air as employees hurry about, completely absorbed in their tasks.
"Ah, Pippa, you're here!" Lev greets me with his usual confident smile, his eyes sparkling beneath a lock of dark hair that's fallen over his forehead. "How was the test?”
“I aced it!” I squeal.
His eyes light up. I see his hands itch to reach for me, to hold me, and spin me around in circles, but we are in a professional environment.
He clears his throat and looks away. “Alright then,” he says, not meeting my gaze.
“Alright then,” I whisper.
He suddenly looks at me, desire pooling in his eyes.
But just then, a colleague calls me over. I bid Lev goodbye, and walk over to Yuri, who is waiting to show me around the accounting department today.
***
Yuri leads me through the maze of cubicles, pointing out each section along the way.
"Over here, we have accounting," he says at last, gesturing toward a group of people hunched over calculators and spreadsheets. Despite my nerves, I can't help but quip, "They must be good at keeping secrets if they manage the books around here."
Yuri chuckles. "You have no idea. Everything in here is top secret. Quite different from marketing," he rolls his eyes.
“Whatever do you mean?” I ask curiously.
Yuri stops in his tracks and pulls me closer, speaking in a hushed voice. "This marketing department is responsible for promoting our legitimate businesses," he explains, emphasizing the word 'legitimate' with a knowing smirk. I can't help but roll my eyes at the not-so-subtle reminder of our illegal operations.
“So what about the other businesses?” I ask pointedly.
“Those are dealt with by top management and people close to them.”
“People like you, I assume?” I ask. I’ve seen Yuri in quiet conversations, often attending meetings around the house as well. Just recently, we went to the Zolotov head Ivan’s house. Yuri was there, too.
Yuri shrugs with humility.
“So,” I whisper. “Are you saying not everyone in the office knows what goes on around here in terms of the illegal operations?”
“Exactly!” he tells me, looking around, still speaking under his breath.
The realization hits me like a whirlwind. “But how do they manage to keep secrets in a company this large?” I ask, still in disbelief.
“Because, Pippa, it is a company this large. Secrets are easier to lose in a crowded place.”
“Amazing,” I shake my head, soaking it in.
“Now come, look over these numbers for us.” He points at a spreadsheet and passes me a chair.
***
Later that afternoon, my heels click against the polished floor as I follow Boris's secretary, Tasha, down a long corridor. Her professional demeanor and no-nonsense attitude are always evident. Over the last few weeks, I’ve learned she wastes no time on small talk.
Today, she launches straight into an explanation of my duties. Since my first day here, this is my first round in internship rotation under her guidance.
"Alright, Pippa, you'll be working closely with me," she says briskly. "Our job is to manage Boris's appointments, handle correspondence, and ensure that everything in this office runs smoothly."
"Understood," I reply, trying to match her efficient tone.
As we settle into our shared office space, I overhear snippets of hushed conversations from the adjacent room, hinting at something darker beneath the surface of this seemingly ordinary business.
"Did you hear what happened to Alexei last week?" one voice whispers. "Crossed the wrong people, got caught up in some deep mess…"
"Shh!" another hisses, cutting off the first speaker. "We're not supposed to talk about that stuff here."
I try to ignore the chatter, focusing on the tasks Tasha assigns me. But curiosity gnaws at me, urging me to dig deeper, to uncover the hidden truths that lurk within these walls.
"Hey, Tasha," I ask casually, attempting to steer the conversation toward the clandestine activities I suspect these men are talking about. "Is there anything unusual or… forbidden that I should know about?"
She raises an eyebrow, sizing me up for a moment before answering. "Pippa, our job is to support Boris, not to pry into his personal affairs. Whatever goes on outside this office is none of our concern. Understand?"
"Of course," I respond quickly, chastened by her sharp tone. Despite her warning, the seeds of doubt have already been planted, and I can't help but feel that there's much more to this office—and its inhabitants—than meets the eye.
***
I find myself in the break room, stirring a cup of coffee I don't really want and trying to appear nonchalant. The hum of animated conversations fills the air, but I'm not here for casual chitchat—I'm on a mission. My heart races as I remind myself that I'm playing detective, determined to unveil whatever secrets lie beneath the surface of this office.
"Hey, new girl!" A coworker named Alex greets me, leaning against the counter beside me. "How's your first week going?"
"Good, thanks," I reply, forcing a smile. "Everyone's been really helpful." I take a sip of the scalding coffee, wincing as it burns my tongue. This is my chance to dig deeper, so I casually ask, "By the way, do people ever… I don't know, talk about the more… unusual aspects of working here?"
"Unusual?" He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by my question. "You mean like the office gossip? Or are we talking about something more…sinister?"
"Sinister might be the word." I try to maintain a light tone, hoping he'll open up.
Alex grins, leaning in closer. "Well, I've heard some whispers about underground dealings and connections to some pretty powerful players, but who knows if any of it's true?"
"Interesting," I say, attempting to keep my voice steady despite the excitement bubbling inside me. "But how would anyone even get involved in that kind of thing?"
"Beats me," he shrugs, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Some people just have a knack for finding trouble, you know? But I know the Zolotovs, and they’re nothing like that. They always pay their taxes in advance. Just last year, an employee’s kid got cancer. They gave her the full year off, fully paid, just so she could help her kid out with appointments and all. People who talk shit about them are just bigots. They do so much around here, and to hear such horrid whispers… it’s just not right!"
I nod thoughtfully, surprised to learn of the Zolotov generosity.
Just then, the door to the break room swings open, and two employees enter, their faces tight with tension. They seem oblivious to the rest of us as they launch into a heated exchange.
"Are you out of your mind?" one hisses, her eyes darting around the room as if we're all eavesdropping—which, let's face it, I am. "We can't risk exposing ourselves like that!"
"Relax," the other replies, a hint of impatience in his voice. "I've got it under control. Trust me."
"Trust you?" she scoffs. "You're playing with fire, and we're all going to get burned."
"Enough!" he snaps, silencing her. The room goes quiet, and everyone tries their best to look busy. "This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. We'll talk later."
With that, they storm out, leaving behind a heavy silence. My heart pounds in my ears as I process what I've just witnessed.
"Looks like trouble in paradise," Alex remarks, smirking at the closed door.
"Seems that way," I agree, hiding the thrill that courses through me. So, Yuri wasn’t lying. A majority of the employees here truly have no idea about the illicit activities, even if people happen to overhear conversations regarding such matters in plain sight like we just did
Well, I’ll be damned.
***
That Friday, the sun casts a warm, golden glow on the rooftop garden of the office as we gather for our weekly after-work get-together. Anoushka, Boris’s wife, Robin, and Damien’s wife, Genevieve, always join in for Friday night drinks. Post-drinks, we often head out to town. It’s a sweet tradition, and I’m all for it. It's nice to have a group of women around me who understand the peculiarities of this office.
"Can you believe that guy?" Anoushka rolls her eyes, sipping from her glass of wine. "He thinks he can just waltz in wherever and tell me all what to do."
"Which guy are we talking about?" I ask, trying to keep up with the conversation.
"Lev, of course," she replies, shooting me a knowing grin. "Who else can drive us crazy like he does?"
"Ah, yes, our Lev." I chuckle, remembering the countless times Lev has frustrated and intrigued me in equal measure as well. “So what did he do now?”
“He noticed my car was making a sound and sent it in for an inspection without telling me! I was without a vehicle the whole day. I had to hitch a ride with the bodyguards in their convoy!” She sounds frustrated at the thought of not being able to drive her sports car.
I try to stifle a grin as Robin chimes in with an exaggerated—“Oh, the horror!”
Genevieve and I look at each other and burst out laughing. Robin joins in. Anoushka, on the other hand, simply rolls her eyes and downs her wine in a good-natured manner.
"Speaking of Lev…" Genevieve interjects, pointing over my shoulder. I turn and see Lev entering the garden, deep in conversation with Boris and Damien. They're discussing something serious, their brows furrowed and voices low.
"Look at them," Robin sighs. "Always working, even when they're supposed to be relaxing."
"Maybe we should stage an intervention," Anoushka suggests playfully. "Teach them how to have a little fun."
"Or we could just enjoy ourselves without them." I raise my glass and the others toast in agreement.
***
The hum of the office feels electric this Monday, as it always does the start of the week. I focus on my work, trying not to get too caught up in the atmosphere of distractions, as everyone’s busy assigning tasks, prioritizing last-minute things, and panicking over late deadlines.
"Hey, Pippa, can you help me with these files?" Tanya, one of the other interns, calls out to me. As I walk over to her desk, I see Lev leaning against the wall, chatting with an employee. She’s tall, blonde, and perfectly thin.
She giggles and flutters her eyelashes at him, clearly vying for his attention. An uncomfortable knot forms in my stomach, and it takes me a moment to realize that it's jealousy.
“Pippa, you got the files?” Tanya walks over and stands before me.
"Sure,” I wave them at her. “What do you need help with?" I ask Tanya, trying to keep my voice steady and ignore the scene unfolding behind her.
"Can you just double-check these numbers for me? I think there might be an error." She hands me a pen and a stack of papers, her eyes briefly flicking toward where mine are, toward Lev. She doesn’t say a word, turns back, and walks off to her desk.
"Of course," I reply to no one in particular, forcing myself to concentrate on the task at hand.
Half an hour later, I look up to see Lev walking toward the elevator. This time, another woman, a redhead in a tight skirt and button-down shirt walks alongside him. She laughs and touches his arm. I flinch when he laughs back at something she said. The elevator opens. He lets her go in first before entering behind her.
The knot in my stomach tightens. At that moment, I can't help but let my mind wander to Lev's past relationships. I heard through the grapevine that he had some sort of fling with Boris's old secretary, and the thought gnaws at me, making me question my own desirability.
How many people has he hooked up with around this office?
Am I just another conquest, a challenge for him, or does he genuinely care for me? Everything comes tumbling into my mind. Lev and his supermodels, how he teases me so without ever going all the way, all these women he laughs with.
And suddenly, I feel small.