CHAPTER 28: – I AM NIKOLAS BASTIANI –

Nikolas sat across from Elio Romano, his fake.

Elio was blinking confusedly at him. "Sir...?"

"You heard me," Nikolas so helpfully pointed out. "I want us to make a deal with Carlos Aceto. It should be good for that S-tier modelling agency you’re handling."

Elio furrowed his brows. "But, boss, the modeling company already has a partnership with a better-selling brand, which I don’t think you thought of before approving. You only put a hundred percent of your interest into Bratva." He added, "Besides, Aceto is already on the final stage of a deal with Fernando Stolov. Why do we need to—"

"That’s exactly why we need it." Nikolas threw his head back against the chair in his office. "I can’t let the Stolovs have that deal."

"But why? Sure, Carlos Aceto is a man with a billion-dollar company behind him, but he’s nothing to you. There are more bigger companies out there we could draft a deal with. Is there something special about Aceto?"

Nikolas looked at him. "Something like that."

"So... you plan to snatch the deal?" Elio wasn’t understanding.

"Yes. Exactly that, Elio."

"And how do we do that? I don’t think Aceto will be willing to cancel a deal that is in its final stage merely because of you."

"Merely?"

Nikolas’s voice sounded void of emotion. But there was a slight mirth to his tone.

"I am Nikolas Bastiani, Elio. There is nothing merely about me. Or are you skeptical?"

Elio toed the line carefully, wary of him. "Well... just a little. I mean, I understand that we stand above all influence here in the Valestra continent, but nobody in their right mind would cancel a deal like that overnight. Not to mention the deal has already made the headlines. I don’t think he would be willing to handle the scandal that comes with it."

Nikolas manspreaded slowly on the chair, elbows resting against his desk as the cockiest of smiles spread across his face. "Shall we watch and see?"

"Sir?"

"For a proxy, you seem to have an awful little faith in who I am. My name."

Elio immediately panicked. "No, no, it’s not like that! Sir, I—"

"Relax, will you?" Nikolas mused. "You just have to watch and see."

"But how?"

"Invite Aceto over."

Elio gaped at him. "Over to where?"

"The company. Where else?"

The man adjusted the glasses over the bridge of his nose. He collected himself, saying, "Sir, if I’m understanding correctly, you wish to meet Carlos Aceto face-to-face?"

"Yes." Nikolas jerked his head at him. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why? You understand he would find out that I’m not the real Nikolas Bastiani, and that would entirely defeat the purpose of your initial anonymity?"

Nikolas tousled his hair back with a lazy swipe, crossing one leg over the other. "You’re right," he hummed. "It’s like you said, it’s hardly believable that Aceto will withdraw just for me, regardless of who I am. So what do I do?"

Elio gulped. "I don’t know?"

"To truly get what you desire at times, Elio, you have to try different cards and approaches. And the only card that will work with Aceto right now is showing him who I really am."

He uncrossed his legs.

"Yes, it would feel like I’m desperate for what he has to offer, which I’m really not. But that will allow me to put him in a tight spot while he’s busy gloating."

Elio wiped the cold beads of sweat off his forehead. "I don’t get it at all."

Nikolas made his way over to the floor-length window and stood to stare at the bright sun. He glanced down at his hand. It was a barely noticeable red, as if the sun were burning him, but he wasn’t in pain whatsoever.

"Elio," he called.

"Yes, boss?" Elio twisted his head to look at him.

"Set up the meeting with Aceto."

"Alright. I’ll get on with—"

The door swung open, grabbing their attention. His assistant walked in with a plate of sugary goodies in her hands. She proceeded over to Nikolas, ignoring Elio as if she hadn’t seen him there.

"I know you enjoy sugary things, sir, so I brought you some. Most of the employees are on a break."

Nikolas carved up a brow and angled his head to the side. What exactly was she doing? Why was she smiling at him with that blush on her face?

Surely she wasn’t showing interest in him?

’Well, that’d be too bad.’

Lowering his gaze, he eyed the sweets. He met her stare and outrightly rejected it, "No, thank you."

"Huh?"

"I don’t want them. You can throw them out."

The lady flickered her eyes, the smile falling off her face. Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to shut her down like that. Not knowing what to do under the gaze of Elio, she gave an awkward smile in response and left, closing the door.

Elio sighed. "You’re really heartless, boss."

"Meaning?" Nikolas asked.

"Do you seriously have no idea your assistant likes you, and I mean really like you? Don’t you see the way she looks at you? Ahh... the perks of being handsome." He sighed. "Look at all that desire in her eyes? Hell, she looks like she would drop to her knees right there in front of you if you gave her the chance."

Nikolas made an unimpressed face at the man as a cold light shone in his eyes. A warning intent flickered in his gaze.

Elio knew better than to sit there any second longer. "I-I’ll be taking my leave now." He shot up to his feet and dashed out of his office.

——-

Viviana stood in front of the coffee machine, the frustration she felt strangling her.

This wasn’t getting any easier. With each day that passed, it seemed as if these workers were doing it intentionally. Wearing her down. Bullying her at work.

Yes, she was at a low level for now, but she’d once been their CEO. Surely they couldn’t just disregard that. She was more than sure that she’d never treated a single one of them in any way questionable. So, why treat her this way as if someone had paid them to do so—Her eyes shone with realization.

Wait a minute...

The idea wasn’t entirely impossible.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter.

’It all makes sense now why everyone is acting so strangely towards me. My father would never stoop this low. But Savannah and Serena...’

The sharp beep of the coffee machine snapped her out of her thoughts. She grabbed the cup and made her way out of the kitchen toward the main large office, where about twenty employees each sat at their desks, eyes on the screen and fingers tapping at keyboards.

The one who’d sent her on the errand was Giancarlo. It was painfully obvious that he was doing this to mess with her, but Viviana had no intention of humoring him.

She walked over to where he sat and held out a mug. "Here’s your coffee," she said.

Gin barely glanced at her. "Aren’t you forgetting something?"