The remainder of the day saw a noticeable shift in the atmosphere on the sixth floor. Hank, making frequent, purposeful rounds, observed a marked increase in focused activity. The idle chatter had subsided, replaced by the quiet hum of computers and the hushed tones of investors engaged in their work. He had also taken a brief ride down to the second floor, as predicted finding only William at his new desk. Their conversation had been brief but productive, Hank offering a clear path back to the sixth floor contingent on consistent punctuality and diligent work. William, chastened and seemingly sincere, had readily agreed. When Hank inquired about Frank and Charles, William had snorted derisively, recounting their arrogant pronouncements and thinly veiled threats aimed at Hank, their intention to "make him pay" for their dismissal. Hank, unsurprised by their entitlement, had simply nodded, encouraging William to focus on proving his worth as an investor.
His next stop was the third floor. Stepping out of the elevator, the scene that greeted Hank was a stark contrast to the relative order he had just witnessed. A large group of individuals were milling about, engaged in loud conversations that had nothing to do with market trends or investment strategies. "Can I help you, sir? This is a private investment firm," an older woman with heavily rouged cheeks and a sharp, strident voice called out, her tone accusatory. Hank smirked inwardly. He saw Violet across the room, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, her lips parting as if to speak. Hank gave her a subtle shake of his head, a silent request for her to remain quiet for the moment. She nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Yeah, maybe you can," Hank replied, adopting a deliberately naive tone. "I was told that this is where you can get a job, easy money and hardly any work." The older woman cackled, a harsh, unpleasant sound. "Oh, young man, there's nothing easier than that here! The old boss just got fired, and the new one hasn't got a clue what's going on!" A chorus of laughter erupted from the surrounding group, their faces smug and self-satisfied. The level of blatant laziness and entitlement is astounding, Hank thought, a wave of disgust washing over him.
"Really? So how do I get in on this?" Hank asked, playing along. The older woman's smile widened, revealing a flash of gold teeth. "Maybe if you give me some sugar, you see, I'm actually the manager here," she said, her voice dripping with a false authority. Hank noticed several of the people around them exchanging smirks, the blatant lie hanging heavy in the air. He knew Violet was one of the top performers on this floor, not this woman. "Really? And what do you have in mind?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral, masking the revulsion he felt.
"Well, the old boss liked to, you know, 'take care' of the younger girls," she said, her eyes raking him up and down with a predatory gleam. "How about you show me what a young stud like you can do?" Hank shook his head, a genuine wave of distaste rising within him. The audacity! The blatant exploitation! "No, I don't think I like that," he said, his voice firm despite his feigned naivety. "Your loss, young man," she sneered. "You could have a great job here, just fuck me from time to time."
Hank glanced at Violet, giving her a subtle nod. She understood immediately. A bright smile bloomed on her face as she acted as if she had just noticed him. "Mr. Avery! I didn't expect to see you here," she said loudly, her voice carrying across the room. Hank returned her smile. "Miss Swanson," he replied, his tone warm and professional. The older woman's eyes widened in alarm, her confident demeanor suddenly crumbling as the realization of who stood before her dawned.
"Are you ready for your new position Monday morning?" Hank asked Violet, his gaze direct. Violet's smile widened. "Yes, sir. I am very much looking forward to starting on the sixth floor," she replied, her voice clear and confident. "Wait a minute!" the older woman interjected, her voice shrill. "She's going to the sixth floor? I've been here longer than her!" Hank smirked, his eyes glinting. "And a manager, you say?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow. She stammered, her composure completely shattered. "I mean… I said…" Hank shook his head dismissively. "There are changes coming, and the people who would rather talk and waste the company's time might as well start looking for another job. Violet here is the top earner in the company and has been for the last two years. She has earned her new position."
Violet looked over Hank's shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips. Hank turned and saw a young woman stepping hesitantly out of a back office. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a luminous quality that seemed to radiate from within. Her features bore a striking resemblance to Violet's, though softer, younger. Hank immediately guessed a younger sister. "Mr. Avery, may I introduce my cousin, Bonnie. Bonnie Swanson," Violet said, her arm gently resting on the younger woman's shoulder.
Hank extended his hand, and Bonnie took it, her grip surprisingly firm despite her youthful appearance. She was perhaps twenty years old, her eyes wide and intelligent. Hank glanced at Violet, a silent question in his eyes regarding Bonnie's presence. Violet shook her head almost imperceptibly. "No, Mr. Avery," she said, understanding his unspoken query about James's potential involvement. "He tried, six months ago, but she shut it down fast too. I've warned her." Hank nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. "Good," he said. He turned back to Bonnie, noticing that the earlier boisterous group had suddenly become intensely focused on their computer screens. He smiled faintly. "So, Bonnie, you have an investor's mind like your cousin?" he asked. The younger girl looked at Violet, who offered an encouraging smile and a nod. "I am trying, sir," Bonnie replied, her voice soft but earnest. "But my investments are smaller. I am still under the internship."
Hank looked at Violet, his brow furrowed. "The internship is supposed to be three months, not six months. We either hire them or let them go by then." Violet nodded, a hint of frustration in her eyes. "Mr. Hanigan held on to her, promising her a great position if she made herself… available to him. She refused, of course. I think he simply forgot about her." Hank nodded, the pieces clicking into place, another example of James's negligence and exploitation. "Both of you, please come up to the sixth floor in thirty minutes," he said, his tone decisive. He turned and started to walk towards the elevator, then stopped by the older woman's desk. "Your name?" he asked, his gaze direct and unwavering. She looked up at him nervously, her rouged cheeks paling slightly. "Johanna. Johanna Day," she whispered. Hank nodded curtly and continued towards the elevator, a sense of purpose hardening his resolve. Changes were indeed coming, and they would be swift and decisive.
---
High above the bustling streets of San Diego, perched on the precipice of a neighboring skyscraper, a silent vigil was being kept. Four ethereal figures stood outlined against the azure sky, their elven grace a stark contrast to the mundane cityscape below. Maerisa, her silver white hair with blood red stripes, catching the sunlight like spun moonlight, smiled softly at her companions. "Sisters," she murmured, her voice carrying a melodic quality even in its hushed tone, "he knows what he is doing. Our king is wise."
Faelar, her brow furrowed with a delicate concern, her emerald eyes scanning the surroundings with an almost predatory focus, spoke next. "There is danger coming, Maerisa. I can feel it in the air, a discordant hum beneath the surface of this world."
Maerisa nodded, her smile fading slightly, replaced by a knowing gravity. "Yes, Faelar. Hank knows it too. He carries a weight he does not yet fully understand, but his instincts are sharp. There is a plan already in place, woven with threads of mortal ingenuity and the subtle touch of our magic." She turned her gaze towards the towering office building across the way, her eyes, shining violet, fixed on a specific window high up. Hank had just entered his office, his silhouette briefly visible as he settled into his chair. "He knows what he is doing," she whispered again, this time with a profound sense of trust and a burgeoning love. He was their future, the one prophesied to bridge their world and his, and her heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness.
Lirien, her golden hair a cascade down her back, her sapphire eyes unwavering, stepped forward. "If it is all the same to the rest of you… I am staying here. Our king needs to be shielded, and I will not leave his side." A fierce determination radiated from her, a silent vow to safeguard the one destined to be her king, her husband, the lover her soul already recognized.
The other two elves, their expressions mirroring Lirien's resolve, nodded in unison. Their loyalty to Hank, their future sovereign, ran deep, intertwined with the burgeoning desires of their immortal hearts. He was the key to their future, the one who would bring balance and usher in an era of unprecedented connection. The thought of him in danger ignited a protective instinct within them, a primal need to ensure his safety.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Maerisa smiled, a warmth spreading through her at their unwavering devotion. "We will all stay here," she declared, her gaze encompassing her sisters. "Our vigil begins now." With a collective grace, they settled into positions on the rooftop, their forms subtly shifting, their elven magic weaving a powerful illusion around them. Even if curious eyes on the ground were to look up towards the roof, they would see nothing out of the ordinary, the elves perfectly concealed by a shimmering veil of enchantment. Only one mortal in the city possessed the Sight keen enough to pierce their magical shroud, and right now, his hand was reaching for his phone, a call about to be made that would ripple through the unseen currents of their intertwined destinies. Their future king was unknowingly setting another piece of their intricate plan into motion.
---
"Hi lover, changed your mind? You are coming up tonight?" Constance asked, her voice a low, sultry purr that sent a familiar shiver down Hank's spine even through the phone. Hank sighed, a hint of regret in his voice. "Sorry, babe, something came up. As I said, Frank and Charles left the company, access cards still in hand."
"I'll have security lock their cards right away," she said, her tone immediately shifting to businesslike efficiency.
"Wait," Hank interjected quickly. "If we catch them in the act, they can be gone for good, no chance of appeal."
"But Hank, if they start a fire…" she whispered, the concern in her voice palpable.
Hank nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see the gesture. "Then we put it out," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.
"Okay, Hank. I trust you," she whispered, the weight of her faith evident in her tone.
"Another thing," Hank continued, shifting gears. "Violet has a cousin here. She's been an intern for six months now."
"That's not possible," Constance said, a note of disbelief in her voice. "Our internship program is strictly three months."
Hank smirked, a familiar anger simmering beneath the surface as he thought of James's manipulative tactics. "She was propositioned by James, and when she turned him down, he ignored everything about her. She was never officially let go, never offered a permanent position, just left in limbo."
"What's her name?" Constance asked, her curiosity piqued, a hint of protective anger for the young woman coloring her tone.
"Bonnie Swanson," Hank replied, his fingers already bringing up Bonnie's limited personnel profile on his computer screen. He heard the distinct click of Constance's keyboard on the other end of the line as she accessed her own system. "She is quite an investor, even with the limited resources and opportunities she's been given," Constance observed, a note of impressed surprise in her voice.
"Yeah, she is," Hank agreed. "I think she could go far if she's actually given a chance and proper guidance."
"What do you want to do?" Constance asked, her tone now fully supportive.
"Hire her," Hank said decisively. "And pay her for the six months she has effectively worked for free. Based on her performance, she has earned over nine times what her new hire pay would have been."
"And the fact that she looks like a goddess?" Constance asked, a playful teasing edge returning to her voice.
Hank laughed, a genuine, hearty sound. "Half the girls here do, you included," he quipped.
"Such a charmer," Constance purred. "Just wait until I get my hands on you again."
Hank smirked. "Promises, promises," he replied, enjoying their playful banter.
Constance laughed. "Fine, hire her. Put her on the sixth floor. Violet can mentor her."
Hank smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him at her ready agreement. "Thank you. Now, the third floor has a bit of a problem with authority." He then proceeded to recount his encounter with Johanna Day, detailing her inappropriate behavior and the blatant disregard for professional conduct he had witnessed.
When he finished, Constance snorted derisively. "Monday, we make changes," she declared, her voice firm and resolute. There was a brief pause, and then her tone softened, a genuine concern lacing her words. "And Hank. Be careful."
"I will, babe. Sleep good," he replied, his affection for her evident in his voice. Then, with a soft click, she hung up, leaving Hank alone in the quiet office, the weight of responsibility and anticipation settling upon him.
The soft chime of the elevator doors opening echoed through the otherwise focused hum of the sixth floor. Violet and Bonnie stepped out, their heads bent together in hushed conversation, a palpable air of nervous excitement surrounding them. They walked towards Hank’s corner office, their footsteps light on the plush carpet. Hank, who had been watching their approach, stood up from behind his large mahogany desk, a warm, genuine smile gracing his lips as they entered. The floor was now a hive of industry, the earlier sluggishness completely gone. Gloria, seated at her desk just outside Hank’s door, caught his eye. He gave her a subtle nod, and she quietly closed the office door behind the two women, ensuring their privacy.
“Please sit,” Hank said, gesturing towards the comfortable leather chairs positioned in front of his desk. Both women settled into the offered seats, their eyes fixed on him with a mixture of anticipation and a lingering apprehension.
“So, Violet,” Hank began, his gaze meeting hers with a reassuring warmth, “you will officially start as my Floor Manager on Monday.” Violet nodded, a small, confident smile touching her lips. “Yes, Mr. Avery,” she replied, her voice steady. Hank smiled in return. “Please,” he said, the warmth in his eyes deepening, “call me Hank.” She nodded again, a slight blush gracing her cheeks. “Okay,” she said softly, the new informality creating a more relaxed atmosphere.
Hank then turned his attention to Bonnie, his expression kind and encouraging. “And Bonnie,” he said, his voice gentle, “I was thinking, if you’re willing, I could really use another dedicated hand here on the sixth floor. You would be Violet’s assistant, learning everything she knows, and you will no longer be an intern. In fact,” he continued, his gaze unwavering, “I plan on compensating you for the six months you have already been here.”
Both Bonnie and Violet stared at him, their eyes wide with disbelief. “You will what?” Bonnie asked, her voice barely a whisper, her youthful face a picture of stunned surprise. Hank chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that eased some of the tension in the room. “Bonnie, you have worked incredibly hard, and your performance numbers, even under the circumstances, are remarkable. You have clearly shown that you know what you are doing. And we… Miss Hanigan and I… we wish to offer you a full-time position, with a starting salary of eighty thousand dollars a year.”
A collective gasp escaped both women. Bonnie’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment. At only twenty years old, eighty thousand dollars a year was an unimaginable sum, more than her father made working long, grueling hours every week. “Mr. Avery…” she began, her voice choked with emotion. “Hank. Please,” he interjected softly, his gaze filled with understanding. A deeper blush now colored Bonnie’s cheeks. “Hank… why?” she asked, her voice still trembling slightly.
Hank leaned forward, his expression earnest. “There are two main reasons, Bonnie. First, as I already mentioned, you are a truly talented investor, and your potential is immense. Second,” his gaze softened with sincerity, “we know what James did… or rather, what he tried to do. And we have absolutely no wish for you to think that is how the professional world, or any world, should operate. We want you to know, unequivocally, that you are being offered this job because you have earned it, through your hard work and your talent. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Bonnie looked at Violet, her eyes searching for confirmation. Violet smiled warmly and nodded encouragingly, a genuine happiness for her cousin radiating from her. A slow smile spread across Bonnie’s face, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and burgeoning hope. “Yes… I accept,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.
Hank smiled, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. “Great. Then I expect both of you here bright and early Monday morning. Violet, you are Bonnie’s boss, and you both answer directly to Miss Hanigan and myself.” Violet’s smile widened with pride and a newfound sense of responsibility. “I will teach her everything I know, Hank,” she affirmed, her gaze meeting his with a spark of determination. Hank nodded. “Okay, girls, please go and enjoy your weekend. Celebrate if you want, you both deserve it. But Monday, eight AM sharp.”
Both women nodded, their faces radiant with smiles. They stood up, a newfound lightness in their steps, and turned to leave. Just as they reached the door, Bonnie turned back, her gaze meeting Hank’s. A soft, genuine smile bloomed on her face, a silent acknowledgment of the profound impact of his words and actions. “You are nothing like I expected,” she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet admiration. She took a few steps back towards his desk, her movements graceful and hesitant. “I will never forget this,” she whispered, her eyes filled with a heartfelt gratitude. Then, emboldened by her emotions, she leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, her touch fleeting yet leaving a warm imprint. Her smile widened, and she turned and followed her cousin out of the office.
Violet glanced back as they approached the elevator, a thoughtful expression on her face. Hank could see the warmth in her eyes, a reflection of the genuine happiness she felt for Bonnie. But beneath that, he sensed something else, a flicker of longing, a nascent desire mirroring her cousin’s impulsive gesture, though perhaps with a deeper, more complex yearning. Hank’s words and actions had resonated deeply with both women, validating their worth and shattering the negative experiences they had endured under James’s regime. In their minds, he was everything James was not… honest, respectful, and genuinely appreciative of their talent.
As they waited for the elevator, Violet turned to Bonnie, her voice soft and conspiratorial. “We have a lot to talk about,” she whispered, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Then, the elevator doors slid open, and they both stepped inside, leaving Hank alone in his office, the lingering scent of their gratitude and a hint of something more personal hanging in the air.
