Troubled

The moment Vania stepped into the office lounge, Xander immediately sensed trouble. He had just finished his closing statement regarding the Zenith Summit event when she strode in with the sharp precision of a blade seeking its mark. She didn’t storm into the director’s office this time. No, she had come straight to him.

He barely had time to exhale before her voice, laced with irritation, sliced through the space between them.

“So, this is what you do now? Giving speeches like some corporate saint while pretending everything is flawless?”

Vania’s arms crossed, her gaze burning into him.

Xander’s composure barely wavered.

 “I don’t pretend, Vania. I state facts.”

She scoffed, stepping closer.

“Facts? What facts? That you’re parading around with carefully chosen words to cover the mess? I don’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted.”

“Vania—”

“No. Don’t even try.”

She shook her head, her voice rising slightly.

“You think you’re untouchable just because you can talk your way through problems? I remember you from high school, Xander. You were always like this; finding the perfect words, playing the perfect role. But let me tell you, words don’t fix real problems. And this?”

She gestured around the lounge.

“This is just another one of your charades.”

His jaw tightened, but he refused to let her see how deep her words struck.

Valeria, who had been sitting quietly beside him, finally spoke up.

“Vania, if you’re done with your monologue, maybe you should leave. We have actual work to do.”

Vania turned to her, smirking.

“Oh, Valeria. Ever the enabler.”

 Then, without another word, she turned and left the lounge, the sharp echo of her heels a reminder of the storm she had just unleashed.

The silence she left behind was thick. Xander exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temple. He could feel the weight of her words digging into him, pulling him downward.

Valeria, however, only watched him with a calculating gaze before leaning back in her chair.

 “You let her get to you too easily.”

Xander gave her a tired glance.

“I’m just—”

“Stop.”

She cut him off, her voice unexpectedly softer.

“You’re better than this. You always have been.”

Then, after a pause, her lips curled into something resembling amusement.

 “I’ve enslaved you with my rules, and now I’m enslaving you with a responsibility. And you’re going to take it.”

Xander let out a humorless chuckle.

“Sounds about right.”

Valeria tapped her fingers against the armrest, her gaze steady.

“You think this tower is some grand assignment? A stepping stone to something bigger?”

Xander lifted a brow at her.

“Isn’t it?”

She let out a small, mirthless laugh.

“No, Xander. This isn’t a great tower; it’s the premier tower. And that means something entirely different.”

Something cold settled in his chest. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head slightly.

“This place isn’t as productive as it looks. The rent income? A mess. The tenants? More trouble than they’re worth. This building isn’t thriving, Xander. It’s barely surviving.”

Her words sank into him, twisting the weight in his stomach. He had thought this was a prestigious assignment, a chance to prove himself. But now, he realized the truth; he wasn’t here because of the tower’s success.

He was here because it was falling apart.

And now, it was his problem to fix.

Xander pushed himself up from the lounge bench, his hands gripping the edge tightly before releasing with a frustrated sigh. His body felt heavier than usual, as if the weight of Valeria’s tricks had settled onto his shoulders like an unshakable burden.

"Damn it… what kind of game is she playing now?" he muttered, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. "She really never lets me breathe. Not even once."

With clenched fists, he strode toward his quarters, his mind a storm of calculations and curses. The door slammed behind him as he threw himself onto the chair before his desk, dragging out every draft, every archive, every financial document related to the tower. He flipped through them with feverish urgency, his sharp eyes darting from one detail to another. And then he saw it.

The debt had been registered under his name five months ago.

His breath hitched. Five months ago… That was when he had been imprisoned by Valeria, bound to her whims and manipulations. He had been a slave to her rules, his autonomy stripped away piece by piece, and in the midst of that, she had shackled him with yet another invisible chain—this entire tower, sinking in debt, had been stamped with his identity.

Xander leaned back, his eyes burning with disbelief. His fingers curled tightly against the pages, the edges crumpling under his grip.

"Five months… and I never knew?" His voice was barely a whisper, but the fury beneath it was unmistakable. "That damn woman. She had this planned from the start. She—"

He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm. But the fire in his chest refused to be extinguished. He wanted to march right back to her, to throw these documents at her feet and demand an explanation. But what good would that do? Valeria thrived in chaos. She would smirk, taunt him with her sweet, poisonous words, and twist the knife even deeper.

"Tricky, lovely mistress..." He let out a bitter chuckle. "I should’ve known better than to think I could ever outmaneuver her."

He stood up abruptly, shoving the documents back into their folder. His jaw tightened as he stared at the wall, his mind racing. The debt was his problem now, but if that was the case…

"Then I'll pay it off," he declared, his voice resolute. "I'll clear every last piece of this mess and claim the damn tower for myself."

But what was Valeria’s real plan? She was never the type to simply offload her burdens onto others. No, she was building something, setting the stage for an endgame he couldn't yet see. That thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"What are you up to, Valeria?" he whispered, gripping the edge of his desk. "And how the hell am I supposed to win this time?"

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