'You are Mrs. Vasilievna now. You are the status that people will look up to. Your every move and word is watched with eyes of an eagle. You are a reflection of Mr. Vasiliev. You are Mrs. Vasilievna... you are his shadow. You are his wife.'
'Ding!' The elevator doors opened and we walked out, my hand clasped around my husband's arm.
He gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I leave his side, making my way to my office right across from his.
It's been two years since I have been Mrs. Vasilievna, and it has been exactly 730 days that those words have echoed in my mind. We have walked in like that, arm in arm, and he has kissed me and we part ways to our offices, exactly 715 days.
Amy, the secretary, smiled as she heard my heels click across the floor. I returned the smile and continued to my office. It's made of glass walls, that have been painted over on all sides so that I can see outside into the lobby, but no one can see into the office. Even the windows are painted; my husband says its so that we can limit how many eyes watch me.
Our offices are decorated with orchids, and one photo frame, my husband allows me to do that, but all other decorations are prohibited. In fact, throughout all the offices and lobbies, there are only orchids, and beautiful oil paintings of landscapes throughout the world, and that's it. Anything else will ruin the style of the buildings and cause too much clutter.
And I can't argue with that... he's a successful man, in the top 50 most rich and young men in the world, so whatever his methods may be, they bring success and I have learned never to question anything he may say.
"Mrs. Vasilievna, you look stunning, as usual!" Laureli, the receptionist, said as she brought my tea.
I'm wearing a silk white blouse with large poppies on it, and a red skirt. My golden hair is securely fastened with a barrette. She's greeted me that way almost every day, no matter of my attire.
She placed the china cup onto the desk and left. Laureli has actually been my closest friend if I can even call her that. She's certainly a face I am very glad to see, but I've never talked to her outside of work, and I really do not know much about her personal life. She has a little daughter, and her mother has recently passed away, but other than that, I really do not know.
I silently began to work. I was not allowed to 'think about anything that is not work related'. I was his wife, but there would be no exceptions. The quality of work must be the best possible, and that means no distractions of any kind.
My husband would load me with projects and assignments, and as his personal assistant, I was responsible for emails and appointments and meetings. He needed me present at all meetings unless otherwise noted, which happened quite frequently.
My phone rang, and I quickly answered it.
"Vasiliev World Inc., how may I help?"
"Mrs. Vasilievna, this is Brandon. Mr. Vasiliev is in the main lobby, requesting you to come down and accompany him to his meeting."
I frowned and checked my calendar. There was one meeting scheduled, but it was a personal meeting, and I was not needed for it.
"There are no meetings for me to attend today, Brandon."
I heard a few muffled noises and then Brandon spoke, "Mr. Vasiliev has said there have been a few changes and your presence is required. Please be down immediately."
"Okay, thank you, Brandon. Please let him know I will be down in a short moment."
I hung up, quickly put my blazer on, grabbed my purse and a sip of the tea, and hurried out. My husband was a patient man, but not if he was going to be late for a meeting, especially if it was a personal meeting.
I rode the elevator in silence and when I reached the main lobby, he stood there, in his black suit, with his hands in his pockets, observing the oil paintings.
He heard me approach him, and turned around, and extended his arm to me.
I laced my hand through it, and we left the building and walked out.
My husband had a very peculiar characteristic; he loved walking to his meetings if it was possible to. This was the one characteristic that everyone in the world knew him by; it was his own way of standing out.
So I was extremely surprised when his Lexus pulled up when the meeting was just fifteen minutes away. He opened the door for me and gave me a hand, and with a slight frown, I took it and climbed into the black car.
We rode in silence and watched the view of New York City. It was a busy city, and since his corporation was so large, this was really the only city that was good enough to have his headquarters at. My husband also loved snow very much, and so he would die before having the center of his business in a city such as Los Angeles. And since New York was known for their large immigration population, it was perfect.
My husband was the CEO of the largest corporation that worked with immigrants, and with the governments of other countries. He mostly worked with the Russian Federation, and the European countries; however, the Middle East, and Africa, and South America were also a good portion of his clients.
Any problems that arose with any person, with any status, money, or situation, would be sent over to Vasiliev World Inc., where we would take care of any issue. Of course, his corporation branched off into various little clinics and buildings, but they were all part of the huge, international corporation.
We stopped at a building that was equally large as his building. Once again, my husband opened the door and extended his arm to me, and I took it.
As soon as he walked inside, he seemed to throw off everybody. It's like his presence alone was so powerful that it interfered with the atmosphere. It truly felt like that, and even after being married to him for two years, I never truly got quite familiar with his powerful presence.
We walked into the elevator and as soon as the doors closed, he took my hand into his. I froze since he never took my hand. I waited for a moment, in case he accidentally took it, but his fingers remained intertwined with mine. I looked down and immediately noticed my wedding ring. It gleamed against my tan skin, and his dark olive skin.
His actions had been very strange today, so I opened my mouth to ask something, but he noticed and before any words escaped me, he said, "Not now, Maria."
I turned to face the front and waited for elevator doors to let us out.
We stepped out and were greeted with two men in dark suits who led us to a room with a large wooden table, and twelve chairs around it. The windows were extremely large and you could clearly see all of New York City.
A man walked into the room, and both of us turned around.
"Alexander Vasiliev. It's a pleasure." Extending his hand, he said, "Burton Russel."
Shaking his hand, my husband replied. "The pleasure is all mine."
He turned to me, and his hand moved to the small of my back. His gentle touch caused a shiver to go through my body.
"This is my wife, Maria Vasilievna." His Russian accent could faintly be heard in his words.
"Pleasure," Mr. Russel said.
"Likewise," I replied with a smile.
"Please, take a seat. Is there anything I might get you?" Mr. Russel asked, and both of us politely declined.
My husband took out his computer and files and I took out my trusty notebook and tablet and the meeting began.
~ ~ ~
Back at the office, we once more parted ways and continued to work.
I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head since Alexander's actions were very strange recently. He never takes me to his personal meetings, and it is very rare that he drives when the meeting is so close.
"Maria. Come, let's go home."
I looked up to see Alexander leaning against the door of my office. I shuddered as my eyes met his dark, almost black eyes with so much power and control. He was the type of man who made your heart stop beating for a moment. He radiated confidence and his tall, muscular physique made me remember why I fell in love with him, but it also made me realize that I was indeed just his shadow.
His eyes were very observant and I realized I didn't know how long he was standing there, scrutinizing, since I was so preoccupied with my work.
"It's not even five. Why are we leaving this early?" I asked, standing up.
He stood silently, and his gaze continued to watch my every move and I felt as if he could actually see into my mind.
He took some steps toward me. He had the most patient look on his face, and once again, that reminded me why I fell in love, but it also reminded me how dangerous he was.
His completely cool manner and his astounding ability to be extraordinarily patient made him that much more successful. While many CEO's would lash out at their employees, he would just give them a calm, cold look and wait patiently for them to do exactly what he said, and not once in all my years of knowing him, has an employee or anyone, for that matter, not done exactly what he needed.
I stood glued to my spot as I waited for him to come up to me. He stopped just a few centimeters from me and then gently reached out and tucked a few loose strands of my hair behind my ear.
"I think we should just go home earlier today. Is that alright with you, or are you inclined to stay at the office and work some more?" He murmured softly.
I shook my head and after I grabbed my belongings, he took my hand and led me out of the room.
"Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Vasiliev!" Laureli said as we walked out.
We both just gave her a small nod and a smile, and then rode in silence to the lobby, and then to our beautiful house. He kept our house pretty simple; well, simpler than a man with his money and status would have it.
We walked inside, and he took my blazer and hung it in the closet. I took off my shoes and sat on the couches, and grabbed a book. It had been a while since we returned home so early, so I decided to take the time to catch up on some reading.
I loved reading. My favorite books were books that would benefit me. Romance novels and fiction were fun, but they would never help me with anything in life, and so I tried to stay clear of them. Right now I was reading a book that I had been trying to finish for over a year now, Driven by Eternity.
I got lost in the book, as I highlighted passages and wrote little notes on the sides of the book, making sure to understand exactly what the author was trying to convey.
It was already nine, so I closed the book and headed off to my room. Alexander had given me the best room in the house, with a view over the city, and with large windows. He only asked that I didn't clutter the room. It only contained orchids and large canvases with pictures from our wedding.
I stood next to the windows and looked out at the beautiful night and the city sparkling with many lights. It was such a busy place, and everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere and get something done before the day ended.
I looked up at the stars. The biggest downside of New York City was that I could never see the stars clearly. I could only spot a few, but I missed the sight of the night sky, with its many constellations. Nevertheless, I still loved looking up and trying to see as many stars as I could.
I got dressed into my pajamas and sat on my bed. I could still see the sky and the city from the bed and I loved that.
"Lord, thank you for guiding me today," I whispered into the dark, and empty room.
I always mumbled a quick prayer before I fell asleep. It was just something I had grown up to do, and so I continued the tradition.
I closed my eyes, but before I could fall asleep, I heard a knock at the door.
I frowned and wrapped a blanket around my body, and opened the door. Alexander stood in the doorway, in his plaid pajama pants, and a white t-shirt. I stared at his eyes, wondering what he could be doing at my bedroom at such a late hour.
His eyes dug into mine and the lights from my windows cast shadows onto his face.
"What did you want, Alexander?" I asked, my voice quiet, as I stared into his eyes.
He only grabbed my face and crashed his soft lips onto mine. Every single cell in my body froze from the emotions that swarmed in my body and I just stood there, shocked.
He kept kissing me, and when I wasn't responding, he grabbed my waist and brought me closer to him. His fingers touched my skin, and I couldn't keep myself from him any longer. I brought my arms around his neck and leaned into him. The blanket fell at our feet, but we didn't even notice as he hungrily kept kissing me, and I responded.
He pushed himself inside my room until we reached the bed. His lips let go of me, but he kept his arms wrapped tightly around my small waist, and my arms were wrapped around his neck and stared into each other's eyes.
I frowned and with a little confidence and courage, dared to ask him the question I've been trying to ask all day.
"What's wrong, Alexander? You've been acting a little strange today?" I whispered, as my fingers caressed his face.
He leaned into my hand, and replied, "My love, it is our anniversary. Have you forgotten?"
I looked away from his eyes. No, I did not forget. I could never forget.
"I thought you had forgotten," I whispered softly.
"Maria." He said.
When I didn't respond, he held my face and forced me to look up into his eyes. He gently placed a long, sweet kiss on my lips and I gently kissed him back.
"Of course I wouldn't forget, Maria. You are my wife."
Those words made me shiver, and he probably felt it, since he leaned down and kissed me again, this time pushing me onto the bed, and climbing on top of me.
I smiled as he began to kiss me.
He didn't forget.