Sara sat across from Vladmir, clasping her hands together. A part of her felt slightly relieved that it wasn't Augustine looking for her, just some random man. However, under the intense glare of Vladmir—who seemed like a very strict man—she averted her gaze while he continued to assess her. His presence was domineering, almost suffocating, but at the same time, she couldn't help but be a little impressed. Even at his age, he was strikingly handsome. Definitely giving off serious "daddy" vibes.
Her mind had already begun spinning all sorts of thoughts about him when he suddenly spoke.
"So—you used to be a professional swimmer?" he asked, His words went unnoticed by her clouded brain and only when her boss repeated his words once again to her did she snap out of it.
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"I heard from your boss that you were the best, that you never won anything below a gold medal."
"That's right," she answered curtly. "I mean--99% times i won the gold." she said looking up slightly.
Vladmir's eyes narrowed. "What about the 1%?" as if wanting to provoke her.
Sara looked at him for a while before she thought for a moment. "I--i had my reason."
"Then why did you quit? If you were so good at it?"
"I don't think my personal choices have anything to do with my swimming skills," she said. "I left because I wanted to. That should be enough of an answer."
Her boss shot her a sharp glare, but Sara didn't care. The topic was touchy, and she had no intention of revisiting it over and over again.
Vladmir hummed, pulling back slightly. "I didn't mean to offend you, Miss Sara. It's just that I have a job offer for you, and I need to know if you're the right candidate."
Sara glanced between him and her boss before answering. "I'm quite comfortable in my current job, so I think I'll decline." She got up, ready to leave.
"I'll pay you twice your current salary."
"I appreciate your offer once again but I don't think you should buy people here and there just because you can."
She didn't even pause. Without a second thought, she reached for the door. 'Don't fall for it,' she warned herself. 'This guy is clearly a mafia boss. Getting involved with him will ruin your life.'
"Four times."
His tone held a touch of amusement, as if he were testing her, seeing how long she could resist. But Sara wasn't stupid. No amount of money was worth selling her soul. She yanked the door open, stepping out—
"Ten times your current pay."
She froze.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Slowly, she turned to look at him. "Are you crazy? That's almost… a fortune!! I mean even if you can buy people isn't this a bit to excessive?" she gasped. "What do you even want to hire me for? Are you sure it isn't something illegal?"
Vladmir, who had been watching her closely, looked amused. Her face betrayed every emotion she tried to suppress. Just like Blue. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, her eyes shone with excitement, her expressions too animated to miss.
"Sara, language!" her boss hissed.
But she barely heard him. She was still in shock.
Vladimir stood and walked toward her with effortless grace. He was tall, well-built, and carried an aura of authority so intense that her throat went dry. Damn. The maturity, the commanding presence—definitely her type.
She swallowed hard, her eyes dragging over his appearance for the first time—really taking him in. The sharp cut of his suit, the quiet strength in his movements, the piercing gaze that made her want to look anywhere but directly at him.
Heat rushed to her head. Oh God, not me thirsting over a man my father's age.
"I need you to be my granddaughter's private instructor," he said, his deep voice snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts.
"…That's all?" She blinked, feeling an odd wave of disappointment. "I mean… nothing else?"
Vladimir arched a brow. "What else were you expecting, young lady?" His tone was lightly amused, not the least bit offended—unlike how he usually reacted to Augustine.
"Nothing!" she blurted, immediately looking down. I mean… even if he asked me to be his sugar baby with that much money, I might have agreed—I mean, I wouldn't! Shit, who am I kidding? I totally would've. Even if he wasn't paying me a dime with that face…
She smacked herself mentally. Focus, Sara! This is not the time to be thirsty over him! I can't just leave the job like that—I have to keep my promise to Mark.
"But I already have a few students I'm teaching," she said, clearing her throat. "I can't drop them in the middle of their courses—I've made a commitment to them."
Vladimir considered this for a moment before replying, "Then you can't take any new students."
"Done!" she agreed instantly, a little too enthusiastically. "So… that means we have a deal? And you're my boss from today on, right, Mr.—?"
"Vlad. Just call me Mr. Vlad. My secretary will give you your timetable in an hour. Welcome to the job, Miss Sara Parker."
He extended his hand.
Sara hesitated for half a second before shaking it lightly. "Thank you."
Vladimir turned and stepped out of the office, but just as he reached the doorway, he paused, something nagging at him. Almost on instinct, he glanced back—
Only to find Sara jumping up and down, clapping her hands like a child who just won the lottery.
His gaze darkened slightly.
There was something very odd about this woman.
....
Sara packed up her belongings, stuffing the last few items into a small basket. Her manager stood in the doorway, watching her with heavy eyes.
"So, you're leaving us just like that?" he asked, his voice tinged with sadness.
"I wasn't planning to, actually," she admitted, flashing him a cheeky grin. "But the pay was too good—I couldn't help but sell off my dignity."
Her shameless confession made him chuckle. "Happy for you," he said, though his expression softened with a hint of loneliness. "But come back to visit sometimes. I'll feel lonely without you."
Sara smiled. "Alright!"
She tucked her last notepad into the basket before swooping it up and heading for the door. As she stepped into the open space outside, her eyes landed on Mark, who had just climbed out of the pool, a towel draped over his head. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and droplets of water trailed down his toned arms. He hesitated for a moment before approaching her, his usual confidence replaced with something more subdued.
"You're leaving?" he asked, standing in front of her. "Just like that?"
Sara caught the hint of dejection in his eyes, and she quickly reassured him. "No, I'm still completing my term with you. I just need to move my stuff out of the office. The new instructor will be using it."
Relief flickered across his face.
"We still have two weeks of training left, so don't worry," she added enthusiastically, patting his arm. "We'll practice enough to fix your butterfly stroke in time for the competition!"
The moment her hand touched his arm, Mark visibly stiffened. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and took a subtle step back before abruptly mumbling something under his breath and hurrying away.
Sara frowned. What's wrong with him?
She shook off the thought, her excitement returning. Today was a good day, and nothing could ruin it.
Or so she thought.
Just a few steps later, she felt her phone vibrating inside the box she was carrying. A pang of alarm shot through her. Is it my new dashing boss?
Hurriedly, she set the basket down and fumbled for her phone. She didn't want to miss his call.
"Hello?" she answered breathlessly the moment she found it.
"Who?" Her face slightly lost its colour of excitement when she heard the reply.