Chapter 116
Elena’s POV:
“Elena, as I suspected,” Mr. Henderson’s voice echoed through my phone’s speaker, calm and professional, “Nikolai has chosen not to sign the proposed separation agreement. This officially means we are now in a contested divorce.”
I bit my lip, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach as listened to him continue. “His “no” isn’t a legal block to the divorce itself, Elena. He cannot ultimately stop you from obtaining a divorce if you wish to proceed. What he can do, however, it make the entire process significantly longer, considerably more expensive, and unfortunately, far more public“.
“How much more expensive?” I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper, the thought of escalating legal fees sending a fresh wave of panic through me. Mr. Henderson sighed on the other end of the line, a sound that spoke volumes.
“The cost of this will unfortunately increase significantly, Elena. Contested divorces require far more legal hours for research, drafting and court appearances, as well as increased court filing fees, and potentially the cost of expert witnesses if Nikolai decides to challenge any specific aspects. We will need to revisit our current fee agreement to reflect the complexities of this new situation.”
Damn it all to hell. This was the last thing I needed. I didn’t have the time, the energy, or certainly the money to spend fighting Nikolain a prolonged and public divorce battle.
A frustrated groan escaped my lips, and I leaned against the granite countertop in Haruki’s spacious kitchen, the half prepared ingredients for the club sandwiches intended to make lying untouched before me.
Yesterday had been a relentless wave of nausea. This morning, determined to start my first day of the intership on a slightly more positive note, had decided to try and cook something simple but nourishing, not just for myself but as a small gesture of goodwill towards Shinichiro, hoping to perhaps break the icy silence that had enveloped the condo since my arrival. The call from Mr. Henderson had effectively shattered that fragile hope, replacing it with a renewed sense of dread.
Think about it, Elena. There’s no immediate rush. Take your time to process this new development, and please call me back when you are available to discuss the revised fee agreement and your preferred course of action.” Mr. Henderson’s voice, though still professional, held a note of understanding managed a weak, “Thank you, Mr, Henderson,” before the call abruptly cut off, leaving me standing alone in the quiet kitchen.
g the warm mug of milk in my hands.
I finished making the sandwiches then leaned against the edge of the counter, cradling t
Just as I was about to take another sip, the door to Shinichiro’s room creaked open, the sound echoing in the stillness of the cando.
He walked out, his shoulders slightly stumped, wearing the same pumpled school uniform he’d had on yesterday. His eyes didn’t meet mine as he shuffled towards the front door, his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the hallway. He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder with a sigh that sounded far too heavy for someone his age, and reached for the doorknob.
“Good morning Shinichiro,” I said, trying to inject a cheerful tone into my voice. “I was just making some club sandwiches. There’s plenty if you’re hungry.”
“Not hungry,” he mumbled, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. The words, though not unkind, effectively extinguished the last flicker of appetite i had managed to muster. My already nauseous stomach lurched in protest.
I heard the front door slam shut with a decisive bang, the sound echoing through the condo, and I winced, setting my mug down on the counter with sigh
Why was absolutely everything going so horribly wrong? One obstacle seemed to materialize the moment I cleared another, I sighed again and nude my way into my room to get changed for my first day at Legacy.
After I was done putting on a pair of grey slack and a navy blue blazer, I tied my hair back into a neat, low bun, hoping to project an image of ‘competence and composure that belied the pervous turmoil within.
Grabbing
g my handbag and the keys to the condo from the kitchen counter, I took one last deep breath and left, locking the door behind me.
The walk to Legacy Mutors really was only a ten–minute stroll, the impressive glass and steel building looming larger and more imposing with each step–d
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Chapter 116
took. My heart began to beat wildly against my ribs as I finally reached the entrance and stepped inside. I looked around with wide eyes, a sense of ave mixed with a healthy dose of intimidation washing over me.
The outside of the building had been undeniably beautiful. But the insided it was jow dieppingly gorgeous, a breathtaking fusion of art and cutting edi technology. The vast lobby felt more like the inside of a world-class museum than an office building, with soaring rowings, polished marble floors that reflected the natural light streaming in through the enormous windows, and striking modern art installations strategically placed throughout the space.
Hooked around, pushing down the wave of self–consciousness that threatened to overwhelm me. I clutched my handbag tightly and made my way towards the reception desk where two impeccably dressed individuals, a man and a woman, were seated, their fingers flying across the keyboards of
their computers
“How may I help you?” the woman said, her smile warm and professional as she looked up, her perfectly manicured finger adjusting her stylish glasses.
introduced myself with a nervous smile, letting her know that I was Elena, the new intern
She nodded, her eyes scanning a lot on her computer screen. “Ah, yes, Ms. Elena Kovalyova. Welcome to Legacy Motors Here is your new employes 10I badge” She reached under the counter and handed me a small laminated card with my photo and name printed on it. Just then, someone called out from behind me, and I turned to find a friendly looking young man approaching with a wide smile.
He introduced himself as Ben, the other intern Malakai had mentioned during our brief conversation. After Ben was also given his ID badge, the receptionist made a quick phone call, and within moments, a woman who appeared to be in her late forties, arrived to great us. Clearly a senior employee.
She smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “So glad to see this year’s interns are so bright and eager. Come, I’ll show you around and get you both settled in.” She gestured towards a set of elevators, and Ben and exchanged glances before following her
The time that followed was a whirlwind of introductions, building toun, and answering a barrage of questions. The Legacy Motors facility was even more impressive up cose, a sprawling complex filled with state–of–the–art technology and beams of incredibly talented individuals working on different
projects. We were shown our assigned cubicles, small but well–equipped spaces in a bright, open–plan area.
Later in the morning, after a series of introductory meetings, Mrs. Anderson, outlined our first assignment. “Every quarter, we compile a comprehensive competitive analysis report on emerging Al trends within the automotive space. I’d like you both to contribute to this effort by researching recent patent filings and relevant academic papers from our top competitors–particularly focusing on novel approaches to Al–driven route optimization or predictive maintenance. You’ll then summarize your findings into a concise and well–structured report.”
She paused, looking at both Ben and me. “You’ll report directly to me for overall guidance and project oversight, but your day to day technical tasks will be assigned and reviewed by Dr. Petrova and Ms. Vance. Think of them as your immediate project leads for this assignment.”
Ben and I both nodded in agreement. The rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent settling into our cubicles, setting up our workstations, and exchanging more detailed introductions with the various team members we would be working alongside.
rom my personal life, my first day at Legacy seemed to be going smoothly. There were no unexpected mishaps
Fortunately, despite the lingering anxiety from i or awkward encounters.
That is, until I felt a familiar wave of nausea churn in my stomach around four o’clock in the afternoon. The smell of the communal microwave reheating someone’s pungent lunch suddenly became unbearable. I pushed myself up from my chair, the sudden movement attracting a few curious glances from my neighboring colleagues, but I didn’t have the time to worry about unnecessary attention. My only thought was reaching the nearest restroom 35 quickly as possible.
As soon as I reached the cool, tiled interior, I rushed into a vacant stall and began retching, emptying out the meager contents of my lur heaving left me feeling weak and drained. I sighed, leaning against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl, a sense of weary resignation w really needed to see a doctor. This persistent nausea was becoming increasingly difficult to manage.
Neviolent
With a feal, shuddering breath, I flushed the toilet and pushed open the door to the cubicle, feeling utterly exhausted and slightly defeated. I was already bracing myself for the curious stares of my colleagues when my eyes landed on a woman washing her hands at the sink, and I froze in my tracks.
“Ms. Seraphina?” I questioned, a surge of surprise coursing through me.The woman turned towards me, her brow arching slightly as she looked me up and down. “Elena?”
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