☘︎ Jᴇɴɴɪғᴇʀ Rʏsᴏɴ ☘︎
The Ryson Group's NY headquarter lies in the heart of Times Square, at a place right between the Broadway and the Seventh Avenue, the liveliest area in the whole of New York City.
Amidst the buzzing crowd, huge advertising hoardings, banners in neon lights and billboards, is a dome-like skyscraper made of tinted glass so black it rivals the evilest of hearts. The initials RG is carved in silver at the top, tiny diamonds lining its border.
On the opposite side of the street is another identical skyscraper, only this one with the initials VG representing Vitallis Group carved in gold at the top. One of the reasons David Vitallis' unwavering hatred towards me is rooted from the fact that I bought the building he coveted, before he could buy it. As a result, now both the rival company's NY headquarter is at the exact opposite sides of the street, facing one another in a dramatic way.
The driver pulls the car through the large black gates of the headquarter, halting right in front of the entrance.
Viviane is waiting near the glass doors dressed in a white button down shirt and khaki skirt, her brown hair pulled up in a tight high ponytail. There's a big file in her hands and an even bigger smile on her face that lights up the grey in her eyes.
"Miss Ryson, good morning!" She sing-songs the moment I get down from the car and approach the building.
"Morning." I nod crisply, striding straight inside the skyscraper.
The employees skitter around in shock and nervousness at the sight of me, passing mousy greetings as if they'd been visited by the devil.
For a flicker of a moment, I sense a set of unwanted eyes on me that sends an unpleasant shiver down my spine but the feeling dissipates within the next second. Discreetly glancing around and finding no one except the edgy employees, my bodyguards and Viviane, I dismiss the irrational paranoia.
Viviane's heels click-clack behind mine in a hurry as she rushes to keep up with my long strides, "So when I came here, I was blown off by this place. I mean, all of this. . ." I can see her raising her arms as if in prayer, "You built it yourself! That's insane! And so admirable! I admire how independent you are. I could only wish. I have always wanted to build something of my own-"
"What's today's report?" I interrupt, not wanting her to go on about her life story when my head was already pounding from lack of sleep and unwanted stress from breakfast.
"Oh! The report!" She fumbles with the file in her hand, "Ayesha told me how Sayeed makes a whole listed report everyday so I asked Sayeed the way he does it and prepared this-oh shit!"
Nathan, one of my bodyguards, gathers the file from Viviane's hands when she nearly drops it.
Muttering a 'thank you', she takes the file back from him and begins to parote, "First of, we have John's firing. Which leaves the CEO space for NY branch empty and since now you're here, you can personally choose a candidate."
"Fix the interviews for tomorrow." I assert even though the thought of meeting jittery candidates repulses me, "You know Ayesha and Sayeed personally?" I ask taking note of her earlier words.
"Ah. . .yes." Viviane smiles hesitantly, "Actually, I know them through my younger brother, Nikolai. Sayeed and Nikolai are good friends. When I first arrived in London, Sayeed and Ayesha helped me settle down." Then as if suddenly realizing something, her eyes widen, "It doesn't mean Sayeed choose me for the job because I'm his friend's sister. I swear I earned my place on my own-"
"I don't take Sayeed to be a person who'd just give his spot to someone without being assured of their ability. You can relax." My voice is clipped but it's the truth, "You're Russian." I state after a minute when she suddenly goes silent.
YOU ARE READING
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