“Fine,” I said calmly. “Have fun.”
The morning left euphoric. I wore a new Dior dress — dark blue, elegant, fitted, yet reserved. My makeup and hairstyle were perfect. The mirror reflected a new version of me: confident, radiant, strong.
At the luxury restaurant, Mihail Petrovici greeted me.
“Anna Sergheevna, what an honor.”
“Thank you. Ready to discuss future plans.”
Inside, the room buzzed with suits and spectacular dresses. Business was discussed warmly as I met the leaders. Some were already whispering that I was the new owner, even though it hadn’t been officially announced.
And then he appeared — Dmitri, impeccable in his best suit, with a fresh haircut, exuding confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd.
We locked eyes. Confusion. Then anger. He rushed over.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered in my ear. “I told you this place isn’t for you.”
“Good evening, Dima,” I said coldly.
“Leave! Now! You’re embarrassing me,” his voice low but venomous. “And who’s this? Just another one of your little mice you mock me with?…”
…But I didn’t get to respond. An older man, with a glass of red wine in hand and a vice president badge on his jacket, approached with a broad smile.
“Miss Volkov, we were just discussing the financial recovery strategy. How nice that you’ve arrived. Dmitri, I assume you’ve already congratulated her on her position?”
I turned my head slightly towards Dmitri. His expression went blank. He blinked a few times.
“Her… Her position?”
“Ah, didn’t you know?” the vice president interjected, unaware of how much truth he was pouring into that wine. “Well, it seems you’ve missed the last important meetings. Anna is the new majority owner of our fund and, consequently, of TradeInvest. We were informed today.”
Dmitri seemed to run out of oxygen. His lips moved silently. I looked at him with the same calmness you have when you’re staring at a person who slammed the door in your face, but you’ve since bought their house.
“Excuse me,” I said calmly. “I should join the board members.”
I left him there, among the crystal glasses and the shame that began to trickle down his stiff collar.
The evening was a success. The company’s reorganization plan was approved. I publicly announced my intention to directly lead the restructuring, and for the first time in my life, I was being listened to, not tolerated.
The next day, Dmitri waited for me in the kitchen. With dark circles under his eyes, without his Swiss watch. He held a coffee that I always made for him.
“Anna… can we talk?”
“You can start with your resignation.”
He didn’t say anything more. He just nodded, defeated.
I watched him leave through the door. No luxury car. No superior air. Just a man who forgot that sometimes, the little gray mouse is actually the lion in sheep’s clothing.
That day, I remembered my grandmother’s words from the countryside:
“A good girl shows her worth in bad times. But even in good times… she rises.”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or for how characters are portrayed and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
