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Tatyana woke up swathed in luxurious cotton sheets, her shoes missing and her wrinkled skirt stiff around her body. She slowly sat up, trying to piece together what had happened.
She didn’t have a headache. She didn’t feel any aches at all, save for the uncomfortable sensation that occurred when you slept in dress clothes.
“What the hell happened last night? She remembered her meeting with the terrifying CEO of SMO International, the cool professionalism of Elene Beridze, and shaking hands…
Shaking hands on thirty million dollars.
“Oh fuck!” She swung her legs out of the bed and set them on the floor, looking for her shoes.
She didn’t know where she was, but she had to get out of there. Forget her back pay. She’d been insane to go after it. She had to get home. She had to get back to her mother. Being a waitress was an option. Working in a soul-sucking job at the utilities authority was an excellent option.
Tatyana just had to get away from that handshake.
She raced around the hotel room, only to come up short when she saw her battered suitcase sitting in the closet next to her shoes, her trainers, and the slippers she’d stuffed in her carryon.
“What is happening right now?”
She walked over to the bathroom and all her toiletries were laid out on the counter, supplemented by high end hotel items. A robe was neatly folded on a cushioned bench.
Tatyana stepped back and looked—really looked—around the hotel room where she’d been sleeping.
Gold and marble and gilt mirrors.
A giant king bed, a generous sitting area near draped windows with a view of the city. What looked like French doors leading out to a wrought iron balcony that curved around the room. Persian rugs over dark, polished wood floors.
There was an espresso maker in the small kitchenette with a stack of shiny aluminum coffee pods and a giant bowl of fruit next to a tray of fresh pastries.
On the table near the kitchenette, her messenger bag was sitting next to something that looked like a letter. Tatyana walked over and rifled through her bag to check that everything was still in place before she picked up the letter.
Dear Miss Vorona,
I hope you’re feeling better this morning. My greatest apologies for the stressful day you experienced yesterday. According to my secretary, you failed to take a lunch or dinner break while you were waiting for me and that might have contributed to your illness. I sincerely apologize for my late arrival, and I hope you’re feeling rested today.
I took the liberty of booking a room for you at the Admiral and having your bags moved over from your previous accommodation to make sure you are comfortable in Odesa, since you’ll be staying for an extended time. Please speak to the concierge Marina should you need anything.
Ring the front desk when you are ready for breakfast and it will be delivered.
Your accommodations and all travel expenses while you are in Odesa will be covered completely by SMO International, of course, as all of us are eager to work with our new consultant on her upcoming project.
I have included my personal number at the bottom of the letter when you feel ready to come back to the office. Please use it when you’re rested and ready to proceed.
Sincerely, Elene Beridze
P.S. The entirely of your wages for your last six months working for ZOL have been transferred to your personal accounts in Sevastopol on Mr. Sokolov’s direct orders, but I would appreciate if you could fill out the employment paperwork I have sent to your email address as soon as possible. I’m sure you can appreciate that my own bookkeeper would prefer that the necessary paperwork for your official intake is filled out promptly.
Mr. Sokolov has also instructed me to issue you a small retainer for your upcoming work to cover your expenses while you are consulting with us. We can discuss details when you come into the office later.
Tatyana dropped the letter on the table and immediately looked for her phone, which she found plugged into the wall with a charging cord she didn’t recognize.
“Oh God, oh God.” She tapped furiously to open her banking app, only to see all the money she was owed was already in her account. Along with an additional seven hundred thousand rubles.
And a separate transfer of eight million rubles.
Tatyana dropped her phone, and it rattled when it hit the marble counter.
Sokolov had deposited roughly one hundred thousand US dollars in her bank account overnight. She had no idea how or why the man had done it but—
Of course you know how.
Of course you know why.
Sokolov was as corrupt as Zara had been. Probably more.
Tatyana picked up her phone and sat down in the sofa overlooking the harbor as morning light poured through the gauzy drapes and her toes rested in the plush carpet of the luxury hotel suite.
She stared at the number again.
It was much harder to back out of a deal when doing so meant returning money. And of course, it was a large reminder that one hundred thousand was only a fraction of the money Tatyana could make should she find the money Zara stole.
“Check mate, Mr. Sokolov.” She felt a band tightening around her chest.
Tatyana, what have you done?
Someone knocked on the door, and she blinked back the tears that were threatening her eyes. She smoothed her hair back, shook out her wrinkled skirt, and tried to straighten her sweater before she opened the door.
A young woman in an elegant navy blue suit was standing in the doorway next to a rolling rack filled with clothes in black garment bags. A pile of shoe boxes were lined up under the hanging rack.
“Good morning, Miss Vorona. My name is Lorala, and I’m the hotel stylist. Marina asked me to bring these clothes up for you to try on. She had to guess your size, but she’s usually very accurate. I brought a range of items from the boutique downstairs for you to try on.”
Tatyana stared at the rack of black garment bags, then glanced down at her wrinkled shirt. “Ms. Beridze ordered clothes for me?”
She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or embarrassed. Probably both.
“Oh no, Miss Vorona. Mr. Sokolov asked Marina to help you dress.” Lorala glanced at the polyester skirt Tatyana had borrowed from her mother and her creased sweater. “He mentioned that you would be working at SMO and told her a more appropriate professional wardrobe was necessary. All of this is compliments of the hotel.”
“Mr. Sokolov ordered the clothes.” Tatyana’s cheeks were burning. “How… thoughtful.”
Lorala’s chin tilted up. “But if you’d be more comfortable in your own clothes, I would be happy to have yours dry-cleaned. We have a one hour cleaner nearby and I will take them myself.”
Tatyana felt her embarrassment wane in the face of the woman’s generosity. She had a spare shirt and a pair of summer trousers in her bag, but she knew they were shabby compared to the wardrobe of everyone in the SMO corporate offices.
“That won’t be necessary.” She opened the door for Lorala to come into the room. “I will be in Odesa longer than originally planned. This is very convenient and will save time. Thank you.”
Tatyana was shooting herself in the foot if she passed up the opportunity for some better clothes. She needed to be taken seriously, and clothes were part of that. She couldn’t let her pride get in the way of professionalism.
The woman was clearly in her element. “I’ll order breakfast for you, then I can lay out some outfits while you get cleaned up. We’re going to make you look amazing.”
BLOOD MOSAIC WILL RELEASE ON DECEMBER 17, 2024.