Page 20 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
Anika Simmons.
Her signature was scrawled across one of the many documents passed across her desk. As a financial analyst, every day contained similar tasks letting her brain settle and focus. An attribute she didn’t usually have outside of these four walls. Most of the time, her mind was always running, thinking, and scheming.
It was the nature of her inner workings—her personality. It boiled down to her innate need to always be ten steps ahead, or the smartest in the room. If she could understand her environment, threats and deviations could be neutralized.
But each time she wrote her name, a piece of her withered away, a burning hate simmering beneath her skin. There had been a time when she was Anika Naidu, her family’s surname indicating her culture, her identity, and her unwavering love for her parents who’d given her the world.
And she’d thrown it all away.
In the name of safety,she internally reminded herself.
The erasure of herself and her heritage had been a necessary evil, even if it did make a piece of herself wither away. It was too late to ruminate on that now, she had tasks set before her to complete.
Gray lined the walls of her office, the drab color seemingly everywhere. In her attempt to alleviate the color, she’d brought in some plants from home. Foliage always had a way of softening the edges of a room and bringing a calming tranquility to Anika’s racing mind. Gardening was one of her favorite pastimes, so the small amount of plants she had here spoke of her love for them.
Her coworkers had described her space to be more akin to a forest than an office, but Anika hardly constituted the twenty various potted plants anywhere near comparable to the dense underbrush of a woodland.
Her leather chair squeaked as she settled in, crossing her legs and rearranging the stationary on her desk between assignments. To an outsider, things might look scattered,but to her everything was in its place.
Sighing, she picked up the stack of papers and straightened them, the edgesclackingagainst the top of her desk. Setting those aside, she realized she had a few moments before her next meeting and decided to use her time wisely.
Clicking through multiple real estate listings, Anika searched for something specific to her needs. She already owned a house, but a small piece of her yearned to test the waters when it came to owning more real estate around the city.
Deep down, Anika didn’t care what property she obtained as long as it was one with the nameRomanov Real Estateemblazoned across the listing. She might be a little vindictive and a little curious, but after meeting Mikko at the club the other night, she realized all her preconceived notions about him were correct.
Arrogant, wealthy, stoic, and closed off to name a few.
But of course she was right, she’d taken her time observing and analyzing until she’d reached her final decision. As always. Now it was time to approach Mikko Romanov, an untouchable real estatemogul.
He was someone she loathed by association.
Everything he and his company stood for disgusted her. She wasn’t the only one either, the city of Portland feeling his effects as prices increased at his behest. But beneath that, his ugly interior lurked. As everyone knew he—well, his father—was the source of climbing rents, they also murmured about the abominable business deals happening after dark.
As if stealing people’s livelihoods wasn’t enough.
Or in her case,lives.
Looking back, Anika should have been nervous, but her insightfulness and precautionary research had eliminated all doubt in her mind. She knew him as well as he knew himself, if she had to guess.
Maybe even better…
And that was how she liked it.
Her day job was more analytical and data based, but the same tactics could be applied elsewhere. Her sure fingers and smug smile were evidence of that.
If I can’t have Alek, then his son will have to do.
Beyond her cunning plans, Anika was also fueled by rage. What was there to be afraid of when anger had burnt through every fiber of her being? She had nothing to lose.
Mikko’s reputation proceeded him just like all the ways he liked to torture and interrogate men. He was known for being ruthless, outgrowing his father’s shadow, but Anika saw him for who he really was: a man desperately trying to find his purpose. Someone who had never met someone like her: a self-assured business woman who didn’t want him for money or status. No, she yearned to entice him into a larger game, starting with…
Selecting a remote warehouse on the outskirts of town, near the river, Anika infilled all the necessary fields to request a tour of theproperty for tomorrow after she got off work. While she had no intentions of buying the run down building—its land and location more valuable than its structure—she wanted to see ifhewould show up.
Anika couldn’t picture him, a stuffy suit fitted to his frame, meeting with her out there, rusty nails and broken windows a backdrop behind his cleanliness.
But a girl could wish now couldn’t she?
The thought made her chuckle, his designer shoes stepping into a puddle of stagnant water and splashing up onto his expensive slacks. Maybe, if anything, it would lift her spirits all while letting her see inside his head.
