Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Leonid
I pace the length of my office, phone pressed to my ear, mid-conversation with the contractor about the warehouse expansion, when my burner buzzes twice—a short, urgent signal from Sergei's rotation. I ignore the contractor's droning about timelines and costs, mutter a "hold," and switch lines.
"Boss," Sergei's voice cuts in. "Ms. Harper left the school early. She’s headed home now. She didn’t look well."
My gut twists. She's been off since the gala, dodging my questions about what's been eating at her.
"Stay on her building. Report if she leaves again." I hang up, end the contractor call after rescheduling for another time, and grab my coat. The elevator ride down feels too slow; my mind races through worst cases. Is she sick again?
I call her as the car peels out into traffic. It rings three times. Four. She picks up on the fifth, and the sound that hits me first isn't her voice, it's a choked sob, muffled like she's trying to hide it.
"Laurel." My knuckles whiten on the wheel. "Baby, what happened?"
Nothing. Just ragged breathing, a wet sniff. Then, broken: "Leonid?"
"Where are you?" The city blurs past, red lights be damned.
"Home." Another sob rips out, raw and defeated.
“What happened? Why aren’t you at work?”
“I…” she starts sobbing again.
"Baby, I'm on my way, what’s going on? Talk to me."
She hangs up. I slam the phone down, jaw locked so tight it aches. Ten minutes later, I burst through her building door.
The apartment is dim, blinds half-drawn. She's in the living room, curled on the armchair like a broken thing, knees to chest, staring at nothing. Eyes red-rimmed, swollen, tracks of mascara streaking her cheeks. My chest cracks open at the sight.
I cross the room in two strides, drop to one knee in front of her, hands framing her face, thumbs wiping tears from her cheeks. "Solnyshko. What the fuck happened?"
Her chin wobbles. Fresh tears spill.
I pull her into me, arms banding around her small frame. She clings, fists bunching my shirt. I scoop her up and carry her to the couch, settle with her straddling my lap, her face buried in my chest.
I hate this. Hate seeing my sunshine shattered. It breaks shit inside. My hand strokes slow circles down her spine, other palm cupping her nape. "Let it out, baby. All of it. I've got you."
She does. Minutes stretch, sobs turning to hiccups, body going limp against mine. Finally, she lifts her head, eyes puffy, lashes clumped. "Sorry. I—"
"Don’t. Never apologize." I cut her off, thumb sealing her lips. "Not for this. Not for being real with me."
She nods, wipes her nose on her sleeve. Swallows hard. "They... I got fired."
Fury ignites inside me. "When?"
"This morning." Her voice cracks again, but she pushes on.
"Aria, one of the teachers, saw us at the gala.
Snapped a photo of us together. Created a new staff group chat last night and posted it there.
By morning, everyone knew. The principal called me in, said it's a conflict of interest, inappropriate.
They think I came onto you. I'm done. Cleaned out my desk today. "
"The colleague who took the photo, what’s her surname?"
"Aria Smith."
Aria Smith. The name clicks instantly. I’ve had a few business dealings with her father in the past, and he tried to matchmake us, which I bluntly declined.
But Aria never seemed to take the hint, because she always threw herself at me every chance she got.
She must have been pissed when she saw Laurel and I together. She made my baby lose her job.
Laurel searches my face. "Leonid, promise you won’t get involved in this."
“Baby I can’t…”
“Leonid, please, I don’t want you getting involved in this.
It’s already done, I knew a day like this would come.
If you step in, it’ll only make everything bigger, more public, even messier.
I still want to leave a good impression on the children, they deserve that much from me.
I’ll pull myself together and find a new job. I can handle this on my own.”
I nod, pull her closer, lips to her temple. "Okay."
She exhales, sags against me.
“Have you had something to eat?” I ask.
She shakes her head. I stand, set her gently on the couch, take off my suit jacket, and get ready to make her something to eat. “What are you in the mood for?”
She reaches out and tugs on my hand. “As much as I’d love to taste your cooking right now, I just want you to hold me.”
I rejoin her on the couch and pull her back on my lap. “We order pizza?” She nods against my chest.
I stay with Laurel, holding her in my arms, watching some chick-flick I can’t remember, until it’s time to pick up Alexei from school. I only leave after her friend Tasha arrives. I don’t want her to be alone.
I pull into the driveway just as the sun dips low, casting long shadows across the lawn. Alexei’s backpack thumps against the seat when I cut the engine. He’s quieter than usual, chin tucked, staring at his sneakers.
I glance at him in the rearview. “Rough day?”
He shrugs one small shoulder. Doesn’t look up. “I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.”
I twist in the seat, arm draped over the headrest. “Why not? Did something happen at school?”
“Ms. Harper’s gone.” His voice cracks on her name, small, angry, confused all at once. “They said she’s not coming back.”
My grip tightens on the leather until it creaks. “So I heard, but I’m sure you will like your new teacher.”
He shakes his head. “No I don’t. It’s Ms. Smith.” He spits the name like it tastes bad. “She’s mean. She yelled at Tommy for dropping his crayon. And she made us sit in rows instead of circles. I hate rows. Ms. Harper let us sit wherever we wanted. She said it helps us think better.”
He finally looks up, eyes glassy, lower lip trembling. “Papa… why did Ms. Harper leave? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, malysh. You did nothing wrong.” Fury coils tighter in my gut. “This isn’t about you.”
He sniffs. “Then why?”
I hesitate. Truth is messy; he’s six. But lying to him feels worse. “Some grown-ups made a mistake. They didn’t treat her fairly. But she’s okay.”
He nods. “I don’t like Ms. Smith. She looks at me funny.”
“You won’t have to deal with her long,” I murmur.
He looks up, eyes wide. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.”
He searches my face. “Can Ms. Harper come back?”
I brush a curl off his forehead. “I’ll see what I can do. But even if she doesn’t return to your school, she’ll still be around. You’ll see her. I promise.”
He exhales, small body relaxing a fraction. “Okay.”
“Go inside, get changed. We’ll make dinner together.”
“Okay.” He slides out, dragging his backpack along.
I arrive at the school ten minutes after the morning bell rings. The receptionist opens her mouth as I walk past her toward the principal’s office, then closes it when she recognizes me. She knows better than to stop me.
I push the door to the principal’s office open without knocking.
Principal Ellis looks up from her computer. “Mr. Volkov,” Ellis says, rising halfway. “This is unexpected—”
“Sit.” She drops back into her chair.
I close the door.
I don’t sit. I stand at the head of the table, hands flat on the surface, leaning forward.
“Yesterday you terminated Laurel Harper’s employment. Because of a photograph taken at a public charity event where she was my date. You cited a conflict of interest, inappropriate conduct with a student’s parent. The implication was that she pursued me.”
Ellis opens her mouth. I cut her off with a look.
“I pursued her. Not the other way around. She never once crossed a professional line. She tried to keep distance. I didn’t let her. Every step toward intimacy was my initiative. If anyone compromised anything, it was me.”
The principal shifts uncomfortably. I pull my phone from my coat pocket, unlock it, and slide it across the table. The screen is already open to a private album, screenshots, timestamps visible.
“These are messages sent to me by one of your teachers, Aria Smith.” I tap the first one.
“Six months ago. Unprompted. Suggestive photos. Invitations to ‘private dinners.’ Explicit offers. I never responded, but she kept sending them. When I continued to ignore her, she saw Laurel with me at the gala and decided to punish the woman I chose instead of her.”
I scroll slowly. The images are blurred enough for decency, but the intent is unmistakable. Lingerie selfies. Mirror shots in low-cut dresses, and texts.
Ellis ’s face drains of color. The HR rep covers her mouth with her hand.
“Aria weaponized a private moment between consenting adults to destroy a colleague’s career out of jealousy and spite,” I continue. “If you’re to go by your rules, then Aria needs to get fired too.”
I know she doesn’t need the job, but I also know this is her last chance to mend her relationship with her father. Losing this job is the last straw that’d lead to Mr. Smith disowning her.
Silence stretches. Ellis finally speaks, voice thin. “We… were not aware of this context. We can reinstate Ms. Harper immediately. We’ll—”
“And make sure Aria is gone too. Make sure her employment record reflects exactly what she did. And make sure every member of staff who participated in the group chat smear campaign receives a written reprimand.”
Ellis nods quickly. “Done.”
I straighten. “Good. Think we’re done here.”
“Yes, Mr. Volkov. I…I apologize for…”
“Save it.” I turn toward the door, then walk out.
On my way out, I stop by Aria’s classroom. When she sees me, a wide smile spreads across her face. Foolish woman. She quickly abandons what she was writing on the whiteboard and rushes out to meet me.
“Hey, are you…”
“Shut up and listen. If you ever speak ill of Laurel again, or try to hurt her, your family will feel it—financially, socially, legally. Every lever I have will be pulled. The real estate contract your father just secured with my help? I’ll start with that.”
Her face pales instantly. “I…”
“Do you understand me? Or do I need to speak to your father directly?”
She shakes her head frantically, her eyes now glassy. “No, please don’t. I’ll stay out of your way.”
“Good.”
I don’t wait for a response. I walk out.
By the time I reach my car, my phone buzzes. Ellis.
Ms. Harper will be reinstated, effective tomorrow. Aria’s termination paperwork is being processed now. Thank you for bringing this to our attention.