THE ASSISTANT?
Today, Runa was stuck with Althea.
The acting head of the family glared at her as if she were a piece of heavy baggage she was forced to lug across the city. Runa wanted to snap back—to tell her it wasn't her idea, that it was Aurora who had practically ordered her into the car—but one look at Althea's sharp, uncompromising jawline kept her mouth shut.
They arrived at one of the Vale's premier hotels, a towering monolith of glass and steel that overlooked the coast. They were ushered into a private, soundproofed meeting room where a man was already waiting. He looked dapper, perhaps twenty-five, with a relaxed posture that spoke of immense, inherited wealth.
"Steven," Althea acknowledged with a curt nod.
"Althea. You're looking as formidable as ever," he said, his voice smooth. Steve Vasquez, she learn was from a powerful allied family in San Francisco.
They began to talk. The conversation was a blur of "merchandise," "inventory turnover," and "logistical bottlenecks." Runa sat beside Althea, her mind drifting back to the red syrup on her waffles, until Althea's voice hissed in her ear like a viper.
"You aren't writing it down."
Runa flinched, realizing the notebook in front of her was blank. "Oh, sorry," she whispered, scrambling for her pen.
Althea shook her head, a gesture of pure disgust.
Steve, watching the exchange, let out an amused laugh. "Your assistant is funny, Althea. New hire?" He paused, his gaze intensifying as he leaned in to look at Runa. "Oh. You have blue eyes, too."
Runa stayed still. She did have blue eyes—ocean blue, deep and clear. But compared to the Vales, whose eyes were piercing, icy, and intense, hers felt soft. Human.
Steven looked at Althea, a silent question passing between them. Althea didn't answer with words, only a cold, tight-lipped stare. Steven laughed again, a knowing, dark sound that made Runa's skin crawl. She was confused, but she knew she was being mocked.
Steve shifted the topic, leaning back in his leather chair. "Last time our families met, my sister seemed to fancy your Antonette. Hasn't stopped talking about her since."
"Toni is only nineteen," Althea said, her voice clipped. "She hasn't handled any of our assets yet. She isn't ready for… alliances."
"Why not? If she came to our family, she wouldn't have to lift a finger anyway," Steven countered with a shrug. "How about Eli, then?"
"Eli handles some of the legal business. Audits. Logistics."
"Those two are opposites for being twins," Steven said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Eli is more like you—quiet, lethal. I still can't believe she beat me at that firing challenge last year. She's a ghost with a gun." He paused. "But unlike you, she's withdrawn. I guess Roman didn't train the younger ones the way our fathers trained us, right? My father handed me a toy business when I was barely out of elementary."
He grinned, glancing at Runa as if boasting to a spectator. "Legal, of course since I was still studying. And your Althea here was handed a boutique. Our fathers are competitive, but you have to agree—a boutique is kinda lame."
Althea laughed.
Runa froze. She hadn't known Althea was capable of the sound. It wasn't a warm laugh; it was sharp and melodic, like the clinking of fine crystal.
"That boutique helped me network," Althea said, her eyes gleaming with a cold intelligence. "Businessmen, tycoons, and more importantly, the wives of those tycoons. Through that 'lame' store, I established my own web of contacts before I finished elementary school."
Steven raised his hands in a mocking surrender, but his eyes held a newfound respect. Althea's gaze drifted back to the window. "Toni and Eli are a little carefree, yes, but Dad sees potential in Eli. She has the discipline if she chooses to use it."
"Or maybe,.. it's just because you've been doing everything," Steven noted, his eyes narrowing. "Stop hogging all the Vale transactions"
"Jason is helping me," Althea defended, though her tone lacked conviction.
"Jason's work is so-so," Steven scoffed. "He's okay, I guess. Careless, though. Arrogant. The car business he handles makes money, sure,his works not polish, Between you or him, i prefer having transaction thru you, I feel like he's a liability waiting to happen. I still think you carry the weight of almost all the Vale assets on your own shoulders, Althea."
The day didn't end there. As evening fell, Althea dragged Runa through a gauntlet of the family's underground empire. They visited The Spades, a high-stakes casino where the air smelled of expensive cigars; two of the eight clubs The Vault and Obsidian, a club where the bass felt like a heartbeat; and finally, a private dock where crates were being moved under the cover of darkness.
At every stop, Althea scolded her. Runa didn't hold the door correctly. She didn't stand in the right place. She took notes too slowly. She looked "too terrified."
When they finally pulled back into the mansion's driveway late that night, the car interior was suffocatingly tense. Althea didn't even wait for the driver to open her door.
She turned to Runa, her sapphire eyes glowing with frustration in the dark. "Don't bother getting ready for tomorrow. You aren't coming with me again."
"I didn't ask to come today," Runa reminded her softly.
"Exactly," Althea snapped. "You're a burden, Runa. A distraction I don't have time for. Stay in the house with the twins. At least they know how to handle someone as useless as you."
She marched into the house, leaving Runa alone in the backseat. Runa let out a long, shaky breath. She was a burden—a piece of "merchandise" that even the Boss didn't want to manage.
But as she watched Althea's retreating figure, Runa realized that Althea's anger wasn't just about her. It was the weight Steven had mentioned—the exhaustion of a woman holding up a blood-soaked empire alone.