The door to Maria Ivanovna's office slammed shut with a sound as if it were not a massive oak door, but the lid of a coffin. My coffin. The air in the room was cool, smelling of expensive perfume and power. Her power. I stood there, looking down at the plush carpet, feeling like a complete idiot. The report had been so blatantly flawed, and now I had to listen to what my boss thought about it. And she thought, as usual, without embellishment. Maria Ivanovna walked silently around her desk. Her sky-high Christian Louboutin heels clicked out a slow, commanding beat. Each click sent a volley of alarm through my body. She stopped right in front of me, and I smelled a wave of her aroma – bitter chocolate, black pepper, and something elusive and dangerous. "Explain this hack job to me," her voice was low, calm, and therefore even more chilling. "I spend my time, my nerves, on you. And what do I get in return?" She took another step. The tip of her shoe almost touched m... continue reading