Page 54 of Owned By the Bratva

“Yes, I know what it is. I just didn’t expect you to watch that sort of thing.”

I shrug unapologetically. “Luka keeps weird hours. Sometimes I stay up late with him and we’ll watch whatever’s on TV.”

“You don’t have to show up for the ceremony or stay for the reception,” Alina explains. “Just show up to shake a few hands, give this old classmate a gift, take a few pictures.”

“This isn’t business-related.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she reasons. “Not everything has to revolve around CyberFort, Pyotr. The public needs to see you as a man, not just a CEO.”

I’m pretty sure I’m all-out smiling now. She’s a natural at this. “Have you ever thought about studying public relations?”

Alina laughs quietly. “PR of what? The staff in my mother’s oppressive house? It’s never occurred to me, no.”

“Think about it. I think you’d be great at it.”

Merrybell clears her throat, cutting through the warm, cozy atmosphere. To be perfectly honest, I’d almost forgotten she was standing there.

“I think we should have one more event slotted for the remainder of the month,” she says. “To round out the calendar now that we’ve refused so many because of…” She doesn’t finish her sentence and reddens slightly, smiling sheepishly and shrugging.

I nod at Alina, a silent signal asking for another one of her suggestions. They’ve been brilliant so far. I have faith Alina will easily be able to come up with a third event for the sake of restoring our public image.

“Actually, I don’t see any other viable options,” she mumbles as she scrolls. “But I think I have an idea. Why don’t we host our own charity event?”

I furrow my brows. “You want to put together an event in under a month?”

“Just hear me out. It can be small, but open to the public. A night of music.”

I lean in, hanging on her every word. I don’t know what she’s thinking or where she’s planning to go with this train of thought, but I’m interested in hearing the rest.

“I’m sure I can find a handful of musicians and a nice, open location to put on an evening concert. There can be drinks and some food… And tickets can be by donation. Everyone’s welcome,includingthe press. And, to answer your question about how this all relates to CyberFort—the money raised can go toward your outreach program for inner city kids. I can plan the whole event if you want.

“That’s an awful lot to take on,” Merrybell comments. I feel the same, but I want to see Alina’s reaction before I comment.

“I used to help my mother plan huge parties,” she defends, her tone determined and confident. “She gave me tasks, and believe me, I knew to get it right.” My gut clenches, but I don’t’ comment. “The last party I was in charge of food. The attendees said it was the best they’d had at one of Mother’s parties.”

“So you’re comfortable with doing the whole thing?” I ask her, smiling so she understands I’m not doubting her.

“I know I can,” she affirms, smiling brightly at me. She nods, adamant. “Besides, I’ve been bored out of my mind. I think… I mean, if it’s alright, this project is exactly what I need.”

This conversation feels strangely similar to the one I had with Eileen just yesterday. Where I was only lukewarm about the idea of giving Eileen a job, I find myself overly eager to give Alina the chance to shine. I’m excited to see what she’ll do, and the fact that she’s taking all of this in stride… A strange pride swirls in my chest. I like that she’s getting involved with CyberFort, even if it’s in an unofficial capacity.

Speaking of Eileen, though, I should probably tell Alina about her, but… then again, maybe not. It’s not like Eileen has the job yet. Bringing up my ex-almost-fiancé might cause Alina more stress than she’s already under. Besides, despite our whole policy on honesty, I’m not ready to talk about arguably the most painful time of my adult life.

“The project’s all yours,” I tell her, adoring the way her smile lights up the entire room. I turn to a beaming Merrybell and say, “Let’s respond to those invites and make the necessary travel arrangements. I also want you helping Alina with anything she needs for her charity concert.”

“Of course, Mr. Antonov.”

I log out of my computer and rise, grabbing my suit jacket from off the back of my chair. “That concludes business today,” I tell Alina.

“Really?”

“You sound almost disappointed.”

“I was kind of hoping to see you in action. ‘Buy! Sell! We have a deal!’”

“Is that what you think I do?”

Alina shrugs. “Is it not?”

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