“No husband, no success,” whispered her former classmates behind her back at the school reunion. Their faces fell when her companion entered the room
“Look, Belyaeva showed up. Alone, as usual.”
The hushed words struck Ksenia like a knife to the ribs. She didnt turn around. Why bother? She already knew who it was. Veronica Odintsova.
The queen bee of their school days, whose venom had only grown more potent with time.
The restaurant buzzed like a disturbed hive. Ten years later. The music thundered, drowning out the clinking glasses and hollow compliments.
Ksenia took a few steps into the room, feeling like shed stepped onto enemy territory. She knew her arrival wouldnt go unnoticed.
“That dress must be from some discount store,” chimed in another voice. Svetlana Polyakova, Veronicas eternal sidekick.
Ksenia traced the rim of her mineral water glass with a slow finger. The dress had been custom-made from her own sketches. But they wouldnt understand that. To them, value was measured only by flashy logos.
She scanned the room. The same faces, just weathered by timesome with receding hairlines, others with crows feet or extra weight. But their eyes held the same hungerthe need to prove themselves at someone elses expense.
She felt their stares burning into her back. They were waiting for a reaction. Waiting for her to shrink, to flee to the toilets like she had in tenth grade when theyd poured ice-cold soda down her neck in front of the whole cafeteria.
But Ksenia didnt shrink. She just adjusted the perfect fold of her sleeve.
She took a small sip. The water tasted bland.
Veronica couldnt resist breaking the silence. She approached, glittering in sequins and self-satisfaction, her entourage trailing behind her like shadows.
“Ksenia! Hi! I thought you wouldnt come. Scared?”
Her smile was a work of artperfect veneers, not an ounce of warmth.
“Good evening, Veronica,” Ksenia replied evenly, meeting her gaze.
“How are you? Still stuck in dusty archives? Sorting through nobodys papers?”
It wasnt a question. It was a statement. A declaration of her insignificance.
“I changed jobs.”
“Really?” Veronicas voice dripped with genuine surprise laced with disdain. “Promoted to senior archivist with a hazard bonus?”
A hush fell around them. Conversations stalled. All eyes turned their way. This was their little show.
Ksenia gave a faint smile. She knew what they wanted. They craved stories of a dull, grey lifeof a mortgage she paid alone, of dead-end prospects, of how nothing had worked out. They needed confirmation that their school hierarchy had been right.
That they were the winners, and shed stayed on the sidelines.
“Something like that,” she replied vaguely, giving them exactly what they craved.
Veronica snorted triumphantly and turned back to her flock, as if saying, “See? Told you.”
“I knew it. Nothings changed. No love life, no real career.”
The words were loud. Loud enough for everyone to hear. A verdict, delivered and sealed.
Ksenia lowered her eyes to her glass. The fingers holding its stem didnt even tremble. She just waited.
And in that moment, the restaurants heavy doors swung open.
A man walked in.
Tall, in an immaculate suit worth more than all their cars combined. His movements were assured, calm. He murmured something to the host, then scanned the room.
The chattering crowd of alumni seemed to choke on their own noise. The music suddenly felt too loud, too out of place.
Every female eye turned to him. Who was he? A politician? A businessman?
The man frowned, searching the room with his gaze. Then he found her.
His expression softened, and he smiledthe same smile Ksenia saw every morning. One meant only for her.
Ignoring the frozen faces and gaping mouths, he strode across the room with confidence. Straight to her table.
He approached and gently touched her shoulder.
“Sorry I kept you waiting. Got held up in meetings.”
Ksenia looked up at him and smiled backgenuine, warm.
“Its fine, Svyatoslav. I knew youd come.”
He leaned down and kissed herlight but sure, a touch so intimate it spoke louder than any words.
Veronicas face twisted into pure shock for a split second. Her brain scrambled to process information that didnt fit her world order.
She recovered first. And, of course, went on the attack.
“Ksenia, arent you going to introduce us?” Her voice oozed saccharine sweetness.
“Veronica, this is Svyatoslav,” Ksenia said calmly. “Svyatoslav, these are my old classmates.”
At that moment, someone at the far end of the table dropped a fork.
“Wait Orlov? Svyatoslav Orlov? *The* Svyatoslav Orlov?”
Recognition flashed through the room. Phones that had been filming drunken dances moments ago now swiveled toward them.
Svyatoslav Orlov. The rock star whose ballads played on every radio, whose concert tickets sold out in hours.
Veronica paled under her makeup. This was a gut punch. This shattered everything.
But she wasnt about to surrender. Her weapon had never been brute forceit was poison delivered through a smile.
“Well, well We were just saying Belyaeva had no husband, no success. Turns out you just took the easy way out.”
She raked Ksenia with a look from head to toe.
“Always the quiet one, but you didnt miss your chance. Clever girl.”
It was a slap disguised as praise. An accusation of calculation. An attempt to reduce it all to “she found herself a sugar daddy.”
Ksenia felt everything inside her tighten. Shed wanted one thingto get through this evening peacefully. She tried to deflect.
“Veronica, lets not do this. We came to relax.”
It was a mistake. Her reluctance only made Veronica see weakness. An admission of guilt.
“Oh, come on!” Veronica laughed, turning to the crowd now, not just Ksenia. “Were all just curious!”
“How did our little mouse manage to charm such a star? Whats your secret, Belyaeva? Your thrilling stories about dusty manuscripts?”
Svyatoslav tensed. He glanced at Ksenia, waiting for her signal. But she stayed silent, just looking at her former tormentor.
She didnt see a grown womanjust the same schoolgirl who thrived on humiliation. Someone who needed to crush others to feel tall.
And her plan for the eveningto arrive, stay calm, leave with her head highcrumbled to dust. Her attempt at kindness had failed spectacularly.
Veronica, relishing the effect, went for the final blow.
“Or is this just a rented date? Its trendy now to hire handsome men for the night. Whats the hourly rate for a star, hmm? Share the contacts.”
The burst of laughter from her clique was deafening.
And in that moment, Ksenia realized. Enough.
Svyatoslav stepped forward, his face hardening.
“Listen”
But Ksenia stopped him with a hand on his chest. A silent command. He fell quiet, trusting her.
Slowly, deliberately, she rose from her seat. No rush, no trembling. Just cold, absolute calm. She looked Veronica dead in the eye.
“You asked what I do for work.”
Her voice was quiet, but in the strained silence, everyone heard. This was the voice of someone who no longer feared.
“You almost guessed right. My career *did* start in an archive. There, among old tapes, I found a demo by an unknown guy. A voice like no other, a guitar in his hands.”
She glanced at Svyatoslav.
“I spent a year restoring that recording, tracking him down, convincing him his music deserved to be heard. Then four more years building the company that made him a star.”
“For the last four years, Ive been CEO and co-owner of Orlov Music.”
She paused, letting the words sink in. Phones that had been pointed their way now recorded intently.
“Every platinum album, every European tour, every endorsement dealthats my work. I didnt *find* him, Veronica. I built an empire around his talent.”
Veronicas face slackened. The color drained, leaving blotchy patches on her cheeks. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Ksenia continued, her tone unchanging.
“And about that rented date theory Interesting take. Especially coming from you.”
Her gaze shifted to the man behind Veronicaher husband, polished but visibly uneasy.
“Your family businessVector Media, right? Just last week, I declined an offer to acquire it.”
Veronicas husband flinched like hed been struck.
“My legal team advised against it. Too risky. Unstable management, questionable reputation. And enormous debts.”
