Konstantin

I hadn't seen Olivia for two, maybe even three months. What I saw when she got into my car honestly shocked me. In all that time, she had completely transformed herself-and, in my opinion, not for the better.

From a pretty, light-brown-haired girl with naturally-not small, by the way-curves, she had turned into a stereotypical escort. She had always looked more than fine, but apparently that wasn't enough for her.

And what on earth was she thinking when she decided to remake herself like this? Her already full lips had now turned into two inflated mattresses sticking out of her face. Her chest used to be a solid C cup, now it looked more like a full E, ready to burst out of that so-called dress. And the dress itself-don't even get me started. I swear, there's more fabric in my underwear than in what she was wearing. She'd also done something to her face, but I couldn't even figure out what exactly. It was still her... and yet, somehow, not her.

My jaw literally dropped. I stared at her, struggling to think of something to say that wouldn't sound outright offensive. What could possibly have gone wrong in her life for her to commit such an act of sabotage against her own looks?

Sure, I know men who go for this sort of thing. The more curves, the bigger the better-that's their motto. "A sex machine," that's what they call girls like this. But never in a million years did I think Olivia would actually go so far as to turn herself into... this.

I didn't want to be rude right off the bat, so I drove her to a restaurant - a place where we could talk calmly and put an end to our meetings. I wasn't going to fuck a freakshow exhibit. Simply couldn't. I have standards when it comes to women, and Olivia had just spectacularly fallen off my list of lovers.

We sat at the reserved table, ordered, and Olivia began to chatter away about something. I wasn't interested at all; I didn't listen. The whole situation irritated me. Would she ever shut up?

I lazily scanned the dining room and spotted a familiar face. Dana. Was she really here, or was I imagining things?

No - she was real, sitting not far from our table with some guy. The more I looked at her, the more beautiful she seemed. Neat, elegant, nothing excessive - everything in its place.

I would have gladly switched spots with the man she'd come with. Suddenly I noticed she was looking at me, and that look seemed to go right through me. I felt ashamed in front of her because of Olivia.

To be honest, I'd have been embarrassed about Olivia in front of pretty much anyone I knew. I shouldn't have dragged her to the restaurant - I should've ended things on the spot and not exposed myself like that in public.

Lost in thought, I suddenly realized someone had started massaging my balls.

Olivia was smiling slyly, biting her lip. Oh, no.

"Stop, please - we're in public," I warned. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dana's companion grab her hand and they quickly left the restaurant. Were they that worked up? Did passion boil over so fast they ran off to be alone? Frankly, I didn't care - apparently that was her man. I felt myself getting angrier. Probably because someone was about to have wild sex tonight - and it wasn't going to be with me.

"Before, you didn't care," Olivia said, smiling seductively.

"Well, now I do. Just so you know, this is our last meeting."

"Our last?" Her expression changed. "You don't want to see my upgrade? I worked on this for you, by the way!" she protested, gesturing at her curves.

"You didn't do it for me. The previous version was fine. Let's end our fling on a good note and not ruin each other's mood. Order whatever you want here - I'll pay. But I have to go. Have a good evening." I stood up from the table and headed for the exit. This circus was exhausting; I don't like long "goodbyes," she'd just start whining.

"I'll be waiting for your call," Olivia huffed after me. I just rolled my eyes.

********

Dana

Finally, the day had come for my internship. I was even more nervous than before the interview. I had to show myself at my absolute best - after all, he would be there. My palms were sweating, a hurricane of emotions swirling inside me.

Today I chose a pencil skirt below the knee, a high-neck white blouse, and comfortable pumps with a modest heel. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and applied light daytime makeup. That's it. I'm ready. One last glance in the mirror to check for flaws - none. I exhaled deeply, grabbed my purse, and left the apartment.

"Good morning, Margarita," I greeted the woman at work.

"Good morning, Dana!" she replied, scanning me with a somewhat scrutinizing look. What? What?! What's wrong?! Maybe there's a stain on my blouse or the skirt is unzipped. Then, realizing I noticed her inspection, she added, "It's commendable that you adhere to the dress code."

Oh! Phew! I nearly panicked for nothing. I exhaled in relief.

"Here's your workstation," the secretary said, pointing to a desk with a laptop in the corner of the room. It hadn't been there last time; I hadn't even noticed it at first. "You'll be working next to me, under my supervision here. We could have given you your own office a floor below, but it's more convenient for me to give instructions directly rather than waiting for you to pick up the phone and run to the reception."

Next, she briefed me on the workflow and work-related matters. A pleasant surprise was that they had their own café in the office, and meals for employees were completely free. Well, why was I surprised? A large, successful company could easily afford that and more.

I sat at my desk, hoping it would become my permanent workspace, when the director walked into the reception. His expression was darker than a thundercloud. Who had managed to piss him off this morning?

It was as if all the air had been sucked out again. I wondered-would I always react to him like this?

"Good morning, Konstantin!" Margarita greeted.

"Uh-huh, good morning," he replied, then his gaze fell on me and he added, "...lady."

"Good morning," I said softly, feeling obvious embarrassment and a twinge of jealousy. After all, yesterday he had been with some other girl. That stirred the cat-scratchy feeling in my chest. But strangely enough, I didn't detect any foreign scent on him.

"Margarita, could you come to my office? We need to talk," he said.

"Of course. Dana, be so kind as to make us two espressos and cover for me. Answer the phone calls, write everything down, or say we'll call back," Margarita instructed, then walked into the boss's office.

Well, the workday had officially begun. Time to get to it. My first task was to make coffee. Luckily, I didn't have to go far - there was a small adjoining room with a coffee machine and everything needed to serve guests and clients of the director.

Just coffee? Margarita hadn't specified anything else. I placed the coffees on a small tray with a couple of sugar sticks. But there were also cookies and candies.

Did they like sweets or not? Well, I personally do. Oh well, I added a small bowl of candies and cookies, just in case.

I entered the office and arranged everything on the desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Konstantin watching me, and a smile flashed across Margarita's face.

For some reason, I felt the need to justify myself.

"I just didn't know if you like sweets... so... here..."

For a few seconds, Konstantin looked at me with his green eyes. Wow, they're so beautiful! You could drown in them and never come up! Then I heard:

"I do. I love sweets."

Oh, and that voice! Was he really talking about cookies right now? Waves of tiny shivers ran through my whole body, and my legs refused to obey for a split second. I shook off the sudden spell and glanced at Margarita. She looked extremely thoughtful.

Feeling slightly awkward, I forced a small smile and tried to leave the office quickly.

I realized it was going to be harder than I had expected.

Konstantin

"Yesterday our clients from above reached out to me and offered to attend a closed seminar-exhibition on biomechanics. Some allied states are even willing to exchange technologies. It will be very interesting and beneficial for us."

"When and where?" Margarita asked, suddenly energized.

"In about a month. They said the exact date, as well as the location, will be announced literally a day before the event begins. You understand, it's confidential because of the risks. But they hinted that we'll need to take a charter flight for several hours."

"I see."

At that moment, Dana quietly entered the office, carrying a tray in her hands. And again, I'm staring at her like a fool seeing a new gate. The girl carefully places the coffee on the table, bringing along plenty of other sweets. Her cheeks are flushed-she's clearly embarrassed. That amuses me... and arouses me.

I'll admit it: her appearance stirs up my already restless libido. Everything is by the dress code, even too much so. The skirt hugs her slender hips, the blouse hides and yet somehow emphasizes her breasts. I wouldn't mind taking a longer look.

When she set the coffee down beside me, I caught her damn intoxicating scent. Like some exotic flower. It's so pleasant I just want to breathe it in again and again. For such a specimen, I might even break my own rule about not having affairs with employees.

And that ponytail. I'd love to wind it around my fist. I wonder how she sounds when she moans?

Wait, stop!

There I go again. She distracts me way too much! She's standing there, chattering something about the sweets. She herself is sweeter than candy. As if I didn't already have work piled sky-high-now I've got a hard-on to deal with on top of it. Damn it!

Maybe she's one of those women who spray themselves with pheromone perfumes to attract men?

Dana quickly leaves, and that's probably for the best. I notice that Margo is lost deep in her own thoughts.

*******

Dana

Today is the second day of my internship coming to an end, and soon I'll hear the employer's verdict. My work isn't difficult, but it's definitely necessary for the company. Simple, routine tasks-calling clients, handling small errands, that sort of thing. And to my surprise, I actually enjoy it. The pay is good, too.

I honestly don't understand how Margarita managed all this by herself before. There's so much little detail work, and yet it's impossible to run the firm without it. I can't help but admire her-though maybe the reason she looks so good is exactly because she's always on the move. The thought makes me smile.

Konstantin is always in the office. A constant flow of people comes to him-employees with their projects, respected clients, business partners.

And then, with just an hour left before the end of the workday, Victoria walks into the reception area. A tight dress, shorter than the knee, with an impressive, wide-open neckline. At least she had the sense to throw a blazer on top. And of course, she wouldn't be herself without high heels. Yes, her legs do go on forever.

Inside me, the she-wolf growls, sensing such blatant competition.

The girl greets Margarita politely, while I am granted nothing more than a nod and a condescending smile. I mentally roll my eyes at that. Her face practically screams "bitch."

Well, I don't have to live with her, and I sincerely hope I'll never see her again anyway.

Margarita motions me over. I step closer, holding my breath, nerves twisting inside me. Honestly, this position didn't matter that much to me before I met the boss. But now... now I desperately want to stay. And it's very clear why. My heart feels like it's about to jump right out of my chest. This is the moment-the verdict. Who will stay as the firm's assistant?

"Well, ladies," she begins, her tone even and professional. "I've worked with both of you for two days, I've seen you in action, and I've chosen the person who suits me best for the position of my assistant."

Her eyes sweep over us before she continues:

"Dana, I'll expect you here Monday at nine. Victoria, I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye to you."

Victoria's face changes instantly, her smile twisting into something like a snarl.

"And why exactly am I not suitable? What is it that didn't satisfy you?"

Margarita arches her brows at such audacity, her gaze sharpening on Victoria.

"You're not attentive. Instead of keeping your eyes glued to our director, you should have paid more attention to what I asked of you. I was looking for an assistant for myself, not for our boss. I need someone fully focused on work, not on finding a potential romantic partner. If you'd like, I can speak with the manager of our cafeteria-maybe they need staff. Their requirements are much simpler. But here, we're done."

Her words land like a gavel striking.

Oh, if looks could kill, both of us would already be dead. Growling under her breath, Victoria says nothing, lifts her chin as high as possible, and storms out of the office-slamming the door so loudly the walls shake.

Margarita exhaled tiredly and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Dana, come in on Monday as usual and bring the originals of your documents with you. We'll finalize your employment contract. You're free to go for today."

After saying goodbye to her, I head home. My mood is soaring, practically up in the clouds.

The weekend flew by in one breath. I happily shared the news with my family and friends: I got the job, and I'm staying in the city.

Eli was especially thrilled, since she'd long wanted to pull me out of that "backwater," as she always called it. She also kindly offered to let me live in her apartment for as long as I needed. When I tried to argue, she waved me off and said my only "rent" would be spending more evenings with her.

Everything seems so good, almost perfect. And yet, especially in the evenings, the wolf in me grows restless. I miss his scent so desperately it feels like I could howl at the moon.

Speaking of the moon.

In two weeks, there'll be a full moon. Luckily, this time it falls on the weekend, so I'll have to figure something out. My wolf won't accept another man in a physical sense. That's another gift-and curse-of being a werewolf. Once you find your mate, you can't look at anyone else romantically ever again.

With a heavy sigh, I wipe away the single tear that escaped and snuggle deeper into my bed. Tomorrow begins a new work week.

The phrase "I can't wait for Monday so I can go back to work" is now completely about me. Because there... HE will be there.

In the morning, I get ready for work already as a full-fledged, official employee. How good that sounds!

A pantsuit, a light blouse with a decent neckline, light makeup, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Many werewolves, after their beast has manifested, stop using perfume. And I was no exception. The smell is too sharp for our noses. No matter how pleasant it might be, by the end of the day it makes your head split and your stomach turn. That's why, after my "Day X," my whole perfume arsenal went straight to my sister Mia. For me, soap or shower gel is more than enough-at most, deodorant.

I step into the reception office and immediately catch that scent that makes my head spin-I can't get enough of it. The boss is already in, must have come earlier, and only recently stood here. Margarita is also at her desk; we greet each other and get to work.

Closer to lunchtime, a few rather plump men with briefcases enter. They introduce themselves as lawyers and head into the director's office. Meanwhile, Margarita turns to me with the next set of tasks:

"Dana, take these documents over to accounting. After that, you can go on your lunch break. And after lunch, stop by HR to sign all the necessary hiring papers."

I take the documents and set off on my mission. With some help from other employees, I find the accounting department.

Walking into the office, I see several heavyset ladies and one man. At the center of the room sits a woman with a massive teased-up hairstyle, furiously punching numbers into a calculator. Strange-I thought no one in such a prestigious firm used those anymore. There are computers, software, all kinds of programs. But whatever.

The nameplate on her desk reads: Larisa Georgievna Kartyl, Chief Accountant.

I greet her, introduce myself, and hand over the documents. She gives me a sharp, scrutinizing look from eyes heavily lined Cleopatra-style, snatches the papers, and without saying a word continues tapping away at the calculator.

I step out of the office and let out a sigh of relief. What a personality! Her aura is almost suffocating. A true queen. Smiling to myself, I head toward the cafeteria.

Having picked out my lunch, I sit down at a free table. There are so many employees here! What amazes me is how different they all look. Some are dressed in business suits, while others wear outfits completely uncharacteristic for such a firm. There are people in jeans, shorts, and t-shirts, and even a few with brightly dyed hair and extravagant hairstyles. Maybe this cafeteria isn't just for our company's staff?

I barely have time to think about it before some guy casually sits down next to me. Skinny, wearing something like a courier's uniform. A long black fringe peeks out from under his cap.

"Hi, you're new here? I'm Theo," he says as if we've known each other forever.

"Hi. My name's Dana. Yes, it's my first day at work," I reply, still a little embarrassed at his invasion of my modest personal space.

The guy smiles, dimples forming on his cheeks.

"Well, nice to meet you. What do you do here?"

"I'm Margarita assistant."

The boy lets out a low whistle, clearly surprised.

"I see. So how's it working with the she-dragon?" he asks, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Those words about my employer didn't sit too well with me. Although, to be fair, I hadn't really worked with her long enough yet-maybe he was right.

"Why do you call her a she-dragon? She seems like a normal woman. We haven't had any conflicts so far. And what about you? What do you do here?" I tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"I'm a courier. I deliver mail and food from the cafeteria to the offices. So, if they load you up with work and you don't have time to eat, just call me," he said, handing me a flyer with the number of the service.

"Alright. But now, maybe we should actually eat? Lunch break isn't endless, and I really don't want to be late on my first day," I replied, no longer looking at him as I turned to my meal.

We began eating, exchanging a few casual phrases. It turned out the cafeteria was, in fact, private, and those people with the sometimes striking appearances were actually some of the best inventors here. The office staff adhered to a strict dress code, but the engineers and inventors could dress however they liked, since they were seen as creative personalities and highly valued. They were, so to speak, the "stars" of the company. Thanks to them, the firm continued to develop and move forward with many projects.

After lunch, Theo escorted me to the HR department before heading off to his own business.

In HR, they told me they were overloaded at the moment and asked me to just leave my documents with them. They promised to email me a contract with all my data, so I could double-check everything and sign it with an electronic key. Afterwards, I'd be able to pick up my papers anytime. That's exactly what I did.

When I returned to my desk, I couldn't understand what was going on. People were carrying equipment and furniture out of the director's office, and he himself was no longer there. What, did they decide to start renovations while I was gone?

But as I looked closer, I realized everything was either broken or smashed apart. What on earth had happened here?

"What happened here?" I asked Margarita, unable to hide my shock. She just rubbed the bridge of her nose with a tired gesture.

"Nothing serious. Don't worry. It looks like the meeting simply didn't go as planned."

"And does it often not go as planned?" I couldn't help but press further.

"Not to this extent-this is the first time. Don't worry, he never lashes out at the staff."

Alright, I'll take her word for it. But judging by the destroyed furniture, he's stronger than he looks. My wolf inside gave a pleased snort at that, quietly impressed with the power of our pair. Human or not, I wouldn't want to be the one to push him into a fight.

"Oh, and Dana! Tomorrow we'll need to come to work earlier. They're bringing in new equipment and furniture for the office. We'll have to oversee it and make sure everything is set up properly."

*******

Konstantin

I'm furious! I've been pounding the punching bag for hours. How could he?! Then again... of course he could. That's exactly the kind of thing my father would do. Always so inventive with his own twisted version of "care."

"Investments in the future," my ass.

After my mother died, I was a difficult child. I was thirteen when she passed away. Cancer. Such a short word, yet so terrifying for anyone. I loved her deeply, I was bound to her. She fought hard, but in the end, she couldn't win.

Just a year later, my father remarried. And it was as if a chasm had opened between us. I was grieving, and I couldn't accept his hasty, brand-new choice.

That was when the rebel in me woke up. I got into fights with boys, was rude to everyone, a typical teenager angry at the whole world. I constantly caused my father problems and headaches.

Until he shipped me off to a closed private boys' school. Money was never an issue for him. David Pavlovich Molotovsky, my father, owned a paint-and-varnish factory. It had been passed down to him from his father, and before that, from his grandfather. A family business through generations.

But none of that interested me. I hated that school almost as much as I hated my father at the time. And yet... it helped me.

At that school, I discovered my passion for inventing. By the time I was sixteen, I already had my first patent-an invention designed to help people with disabilities move with minimal effort.

Ideas poured out of me as if from a horn of plenty. I had no shortage of them. At that time, my greatest support was my descriptive geometry teacher, Margarita Alexandrovna Schmidt. She was the one who saw my potential, who cared for me and always helped. I owe her a great deal, and that's why she now works for me. I know I can always rely on her.

But success doesn't come on its own. To launch my business, I needed finances. So, I turned to my father. He helped with funding and in return became the owner of forty percent of MoTech.

My business grew quickly. More and more of my inventions gained demand, and now the whole world knows about my company. Within its walls, some of the best technicians and brightest engineering minds are gathered.

Two years ago, my father passed away suddenly. A stroke. He left for work in the morning, got into his car... but never made it there. They found him still inside the vehicle. His shares temporarily passed to me. At the time, I didn't pay much attention to the word "temporarily." That was a mistake.

Today, his lawyers came to see me and hit me with a clause in his will. It states that if I don't marry by the time I turn thirty, those shares will pass to our rival company Logitronik. And the man who heads that firm... he's such a vile bastard that I know he'd ruin everything I've built.

And as if that wasn't enough, it isn't just about marriage. I would also have to remain married for at least five years. To make it even worse, my father appointed his best friend, Makar, as a sort of watchdog. At any time, Makar can show up at my house to "verify" the sincerity of my relationship with my wife. After those five years, if Makar confirms the marriage as genuine, the shares will finally pass to me fully and permanently.

My father often hinted that it was time for me to start a family of my own, but to put that into his will-that was a low blow. Clearly, the matter weighed on him far more than I ever realized. And now... there are only two months left until my thirtieth birthday!

Lyoshka, damn him!

That's what my father used to call his favorite lawyer. A scrawny little weed with two degrees, always hovering around my old man. After Father passed away, that snake deliberately kept this clause from me, because he'd struck a deal with the director of that cursed Logitronik, Pyotr Veniaminovich Savelyev. Looks like Alexey had been promised a nice fat slice in exchange for my father's shares.

And I would've gone on in blissful ignorance, if Lyoshka hadn't slipped up during one of his shady money schemes and ended up behind bars. That's when new lawyers stepped into my father's firm-the ones who paid me a visit today.

The moment they left my office, I let my fury loose and wrecked everything in sight. Everything that once stood or hung neatly in that office was reduced to splinters and debris.

I need a wife.