Chapter 10
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Luna
Phew, now this is opulence. Right from the entrance to the headquarters, you can tell BTech doesn't do things halfway. I feel good about choosing to wear Tiziana Terenzi Il Piacere. It's my most expensive perfume and makes me feel like I'm made of gold. Literally . Looking toward the entrance, I even see valets for the cars.
I check the WhatsApp group I have with some colleagues and notice they're all already inside. It took me longer than anticipated to get ready, considering I haven't felt the need to do this in so many months. I'm firmly convinced my foundation has expired, but hey, who checks expiration dates on these things?
I feel a shiver at the base of my neck, the same shiver I used to feel when Aidan would follow me, but when I turn my head, I don't see any suspicious figures. I'm losing it . First time out of the house and my paranoia has already kicked in.
I show my ID at the entrance, and they even scan my fingerprint and...WTF, do they want my blood type too? But the man at the entrance doesn't seem to notice my shock, so I try to move past it and head to the lobby where I see several people chatting with champagne glasses in hand.
Musical notes drift from an adjacent room, and not seeing any familiar faces, I let myself be guided by the melody until I reach a space so vast and sumptuous it could rival any royal ballroom.
I'm still admiring the chandelier, which I'm firmly convinced is gold from how it sparkles, when someone touches my shoulder and I jump as if electrocuted. Damn, I'm going to die of heart failure.
"Luna, calm down," Tim, one of my colleagues, says.
"You scared me." I try to breathe to calm my racing heart.
"Sorry, didn't think you'd jump like that from a simple touch," he tells me while running his hand through his hair.
Tim falls into the category of men who won't knock you out with either looks or brains. Most times he works with someone else to finish his tasks and is only kept on because he's old friends with Gregory. Ugh .
"Where are the others?" I ask, hoping to escape him and find people I actually tolerate.
I know it's not his fault I jump like a crazy person at every touch, but the mere fact that I reacted this way irritates me and makes me want to go home. I've become socially inept in just a few months.
Someone made you this way.
Tim points to the table where my colleagues are sitting, and I head toward them, trying to forget the earlier moment.
"Luna, you look wonderful," Clara whispers.
She's got this way with people - always organizing the team with a gentle touch, making everyone feel heard. While she fills me in on her BTech research and their other ventures, I find myself actually relaxing.
Then a voice cuts through the room from the stage, and suddenly I can't breathe. The air just...vanishes.
Dear God, it should be illegal to look that perfect.
Roman Borisov doesn't just occupy the stage - he commands every inch of it, as if even the parquet shines brighter where he steps. He's wearing a navy suit that makes his eyes appear even more hypnotic. No tie, no bow tie, just a white shirt with the top button undone at the neck, giving him a more relaxed air, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him and it's obvious he hates giving speeches.
He has a presence that demands attention, and that's the problem. Just like everyone else in this room, I gravitate toward him. He's like a magnet, and I'm sure all the female employees are lighting candles in church hoping this man will look their way.
"Thank you all for being here. I'll try to keep this brief so you can return to the party. The acquisition of SensorLife is an important step for the project scheme we want to develop, and I'm proud of what Gregory's team has managed to accomplish, considering the restrictions they've faced. I hope we'll have a successful collaboration and help as many people as possible with this innovation."
At that moment, he raises the whiskey glass in his hand and takes a sip.
"And to end with something someone told me a few days ago: we all work as one so someone can breathe easier. Take it easy with the cocktails tonight. Brady at the bar doesn't skimp on the alcohol."
I can't believe he mentioned what I said at the Mexican restaurant. I thought he'd completely forgotten about me the second he left the place, but I suppose you don't easily forget an incident that ends with your fist in someone else's face.
But what's even more confusing is the mix of emotions and warmth in my stomach.
Please tell me I'm not blushing because he chose to use something I said.
The room bursts into applause as he descends from the stage. I'm glad he didn't mention anything about profit or numbers. Usually, when a big corporation swallows a small one, the first concern is to trumpet the financial benefits. But the fact that he focused on the human impact of the project, on the people who will benefit, fills my soul with hope.
Maybe you're wrong and he's not so bad , whispers a voice, but I know to ignore it. It's the same voice that for a year kept telling me to give another chance to the man who almost killed me.
When will you learn your lesson, Luna? When? Probably when I'm dead.