Chapter Text
A long, miserable buzz against cheap wood wakes her at— Vi cracks one dry eye open— 3:09 in the fucking morning. She flops her head down onto her thin pillow, head throbbing and heavy with sleep. The ringing stops for a few seconds… only to start again. Rattling Vi's tired brain.
Vzzt, vzzt, vzzt.
“Jesus Christ.”
Vzzt, vzzt, vzzt.
Gritting her teeth and letting out a deep groan, Vi rolled back over and slumped on her side, reaching for her phone blindly before tapping on the glowing screen and forcing her eyes open, checking the caller.
INCOMING CALL: POW-POW
Vi's brows furrowed as she blinked at the screen. As much as she loved the thought that her sister was calling, especially when she's recently so absorbed in college, it was weird getting such a random ring from her. She weighed several real possibilities as her brain began to catch up. Getting arrested? Another electrical fire? Hell, knowing her she probably just wanted Vi to order her some Taco Bell at this hour.
Sighing, she swiped on her phone, pressing speakers.
“Someone better be fucking dying, Powder, I swear—”
A wet, wretched series of coughs suddenly crackled through the speaker, making Vi prop herself up on her elbows.
“Before you say anything else,” Powder's voice crackled through the phone, her voice raspy, though the playful lilt in her tone made it sound like she drank far too many energy drinks, “I already know you’re going to hate this.”
Another cough. “Okay, well, first of all,” Powder wheezed, “your bedside manner is shit.”
Vi clicked her tongue “You sound awful. Did you drink meds for that?” switching on her bedside lamp, illuminating the grey-walled room in a blindingly yellow glow.
As much as Vi would love to buy herself a new lamp, she has a list of priority purchases and an all-too-tight budget. Her retinas can survive the glow for now.
She scrunched her eyes shut as the sound of tearing paper—no, a foil wrapper being ripped open reached her ears, “I feel awful. And no, didn't have the time to.” she sniveled
A loud series of messy chewing slurs Powder’s last few words. “I think the universe has a grudge on me right now."
“Right. That’s definitely the root problem.” Vi mutters. Even half-dead, Powder still managed to sound somewhat unbothered by her current state of health.
Vi pinched her stinging, sleepy eyes “Why are you up? You know what time it is right now?”
“Yep.” Powder pops the P. “It’s college! What’d you expect? I've got a shitload of assignments.”
“Shit.” Vi lazily rubbed her face with her palm before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “College isn’t beating your ass too hard is it?”
“Oh, no,” Powder sniffled. “just taking me out back and dumping me straight into the academic horseshit ditch. You know, the usual.” Powder’s hoarse laugh reverberated on the phone. In all honesty, knowing that Powder was far from home, working so hard for the family, taking in all that stress and keeping on going, was a little comforting for Vi.
Vi’s working just as hard as Powder. She has a steady job now, compared to the old, odd jobs she used to take just to save every buck and penny to help Powder get where she is today. Yeah, the apartment isn’t all that great, and her landlord’s pretty shitty, but it could be worse. She’s learned to be grateful.
She could picture Powder rustling around on the other end of the phone wearing an oversized hoodie hanging off her frame, blue hair tied into a messy bun that had probably come half-undone by now, surrounded by snack wrappers, empty energy drink cans, sketches, and a minefield of scribbled-on sticky notes written in a language only Powder could decipher.
But Vi was more concerned than proud right now.
“Really though, that’s not the problem.” Powder sniveled.
Vi made her way out of her room and into the kitchen, using her phone’s flashlight to move through darkness until she reached for the lightswitch. They flicker to life with a faint buzz. Still groggy, she shuffled toward the small fridge beside her coffee machine and island table, lazily grabbing a bottle of Dasani before popping the lid and chugging it down.
The water felt like a balm in Vi's dry, aching throat. She took one last gulp before she responded. “So what’s going on?”
“I need a favor,” Powder said, followed by a cough.
“‘Nother favor? What are we doing now, hiding a body?” Vi quips.
“Very funny.” There’s a pause and a rapid series of keyboard clicking. “Okay, okay, fine. It’s a big favor. But it’s kinda like, the most important thing in my life right now.”
Vi sat down onto one of the chairs by the kitchen island “...Okay.”
“You know the school newspaper I edit for right?”
“Yeah?” She set her phone down on the surface and let her eyes fall shut.
“I was gonna make this whole dramatic buildup, but whatever!” She muttered, Vi could picture Powder throwing her hands up in exaggerated defeat.
“So, I was gonna finish these assignments and get some sleep, until I remembered I have this really important meeting with some shady, corporate, nepo baby on training wheels in…” she paused, the short silence on the speakers deafening “uhhh, five hours.”
Vi couldn’t even get a word in before Powder continued. What came out as nothing more than a weak gasp.
“Anyway, it took me, like, three months of mildly harassing their PR department before they finally noticed me and agreed to set up a meeting!” Powder’s voice rose with excitement, clearly thrilled about the opportunity. “This is a huge midterm newspaper project about urban redevelopment, like genuinely life-or-death typa’ important for my grade,” Pow-pow pauses to clear her throat. Vi opens her mouth to reply but was cut off.
“The workaholic you’re meeting is a major donor to the university, so this really has to go well. I can’t just bail because I got taken out by a little hay fever—I’d look like a total asshole! So yeah, I’m kind of backed to the wall, desperate here, sis.”
Vi picks up the empty water bottle, crushing it and tossing it into the bin across the kitchen. Vi squeezed her eyes shut to rub at her temple. A small sigh of frustration forces its way out of her before she can stop it. The phone picks it up,
“Im sorry, really!” Powder begs with a sore voice.
“God, who's she, anyway?”
“Ever heard of Kiramman Enterprises?
“That company that owns half of Piltover’s waterfront?”
“Mhm. Yep.”
“The one that sponsors, like, a fat chunk of the university's agricultural, law, and architectural departments?”
“Yeah, that’s it. The new boss is like, Forbes level. Richest nepo baby in the world.” Powder laughs over the phone, causing another coughing fit. “So, no pressure!”
Powder and her brilliant brain and last minute favors. She can do this. Vi's been doing this since Pow-pow was born, honestly, she's surprised that Powder didn't become a spoiled brat.
She's a menace of a brat. But that doesn't count.
Vi massaged her temples with her fingers, trying to process everything that had just been dumped on her like a sack of shit.
The Kirammans had been in New York for ages, their family business long since grown into an empire. They're known to be one of the richest families in the whole world.
Yeah right. No pressure at all.
“Alright. So the plan is me meeting with a one of the richest boujee CEO’s in the entire fuckin’ planet. Sure, I can handle it, Pow.” Vi mutters, stress pooling up the crown of her head.
Powder takes a bite out of something crunchy– knowing her sister, it was probably a pack of Nerds– and continues with her mouth half-full. “She’s technically not really a CEO yet.”
“Not yet?”
“Not yet,” Powder repeats distantly, “She’s kind of a… interim exec lead? Succession track? I dunno, fancy rich-people career pipeline stuff. Big on feminism and progressive change. Also…” There’s another series of rapid, violent clacking on her keyboard. Powder whistles. “She’s sort of a black sheep in the world of business. Looks like she pissed off a couple of boardroom vampires in the past and lost some connections. She’s come out in public a few times and actively blocked some execs.”
Vi paused for a moment, letting her eyes wander around the kitchen. The peeling paint, the dripping sink faucet she still hadn’t fixed, the dying lightbulb flickering above her head.
After their parents died, Vi honestly hadn’t thought she would make it this far, especially while trying to raise Powder on her own.
She always stayed strong for her sister and started working before she even hit puberty. She bounced between three different jobs—a grocery bagger, a janitor at a Chinese restaurant, and, for a short while, a dog walker. Now she works at a department store owned by Benzo, an old friend of her late uncle.
But damn, looking back, Vi could remember far too many sleepless nights and going on days with an empty stomach. Jerking awake in a panic because she thought she’d overslept and forgotten to take Powder to school. Crying quietly in the shower where Powder couldn’t hear her, because God forbid her baby sister ever saw her break down. It would’ve shattered her.
For a brief, intrusive moment, Vi wondered if this new boss, the Kiramman girl, had fears of her own—doubts she kept buried beneath all that wealth and expectations. She knew what it felt like to inherit something heavy and too big for herself without ever being asked if you wanted to carry it.
With a sigh, she pushed the thought away.
“I’ll take care of it, Pow.” Vi decides, smiling warmly as she hears Powder’s familiar squeal. Sure, Vi was pissed a bit that she couldn't get any more sleep after this, but there’s nothing she cares about more than her baby sister. She’ll always have her back.
“Really? Oh my god, you’re the best, know that?” She squeals again, ringing Vi's eardrums. “Actual lifesaver.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“Take the compliment!” Powder groans. “Take the glaze!”
“Okay, okay jeez. Hey, send me the details, address and the script you had planned. What time’s it again?”
“Um… oh! It’ll be at 8:30.” Powder responds then a DING rings from Vi’s phone. She switches tabs over to her messages and squints on the address typed in:
Times Square, Kiramman Tower, 1470 Broadway. Forty-fifth floor.
Vi pressed her lips into a thin line. Sure, she was a good runner, and she didn’t usually mind jogging a few miles to get somewhere, but there was no way she was doing that in long sleeves, especially not if it meant showing up sweaty in front of an eccentric billionaire.
From her tiny apartment on the Upper West Side, the subway ride would only take around twenty minutes, not counting the foot traffic. She’d just leave extra early and hope for the best.
It’s a good thing she’s already up. She’ll do some home cardio, take a shower, and dip.
After a final round of “I love you's and hurried goodbyes, Vi ended the call and rushed to the bathroom, setting her phone down before dragging a hand through her unruly pink hair as she fixed herself in the mirror. Her tank top was rumpled, one strap hanging low off her shoulder, and her sweatpants were stained with accidental splatters of white paint and bleach. She’d need to find something decent to wear for this “Kiramman”—and fast.
By the time Vi stepped off the subway and emerged from the station, the sun was blazing overhead, beating down on her and suffocating her inside her tight, unfitted sleeves. She’d torn through her closet earlier in search of something halfway decent and, somehow, managed to dig up something cheap she’d bought from a thrift store years ago.
It was a simple, white plain button paired up with a black tie, and black dress pants. She even tossed them into the dryer for good measure; she didn’t want a single wrinkle showing up to this meeting, Powder trusted Vi on this and she didn't wanna mess that up.
The only problem, aside from the sweltering heat, was how stiff and awkward the fabric felt around her joints, pulling uncomfortably whenever she moved. Of course she grew out of it, she should've gone shopping when she had the chance.
But at least she looked damn good in the floor mirror.
She stepped onto the sidewalk and was immediately swallowed by the rush of the crowd, people flooding past her with purpose, heading who knows where. Suits drifted through the sea of bodies with their chins lifted high and posture stiff, while everyone else wore the city’s unofficial uniform—crop tops, baggy jeans, dark sunglasses, all artsy fits.
And God, the noise was relentless.
Vi understood why some people loved city life, but it’d never really suited her. Technically, she lived in the city too, but the Upper felt a lot calmer than this place. Here, everything was loud, crowded, and impossible to predict.
She’d spent years keeping Powder away from all the chaos for her own safety, and somewhere along the way, Vi lost any interest in partying or getting caught up in the city scene herself. Maybe she could handle grabbing a drink with Loris and Steb once in a while, but she couldn’t imagine living in a place like this everyday.
Keeping on alert to the crowd so she wouldn’t accidentally slam into someone, Vi checked her map again. According to the address Powder sent, the office building was just past the clothing store on the corner. As Vi neared it, there it was.
The tower stretched up, up and up. High into the sky, all steel, glass, and sharp edges cutting through the skyline. The morning sun bounced off the windows in harsh white flashes, forcing Vi to squint and shield her eyes with one hand just to get a decent look at its monstrous height.
Honestly, it looked like something straight out of a villain’s lair, though she kept that thought to herself because it sounded ridiculous. She paused at the corner for a second too long, staring up at the building, before realizing she was blocking the flow of people and hurried across the intersection as cars honked around her.
Forty-five floors. She can’t imagine the view.
Well.
Guess she doesn’t need to anymore. She laughs at herself.
The words Kiramman Enterprises are written on a bronze plate over the huge blue glass front doors. With a deep inhale and a moment to straighten out the small wrinkles on her dress shirt, Vi crosses the automatic doors and steps into another world.
A huge, intimidating lobby greeted her, all dark steel, white stone, and tinted glass. Plants filled nearly every corner, and one of them was being watered by a blonde woman in a blue uniform.
The place smelled faintly like vanilla. Vi had expected heavy perfume or artificial air freshener, but instead it smelled like a garden. For a brief moment, it reminded her of her mother—soil beneath her nails, clay stuck to her boots. The memory hit her with a sudden ache of longing for a life long gone.
Vi shook the feeling aside and kept walking. Her footsteps echoed through the hushed, but busy lobby while soft piano music drifted from hidden speakers nearby.
Behind the white marble reception desk sat a sharp-looking woman with pitch-black hair and an even darker suit jacket and skirt. A soft smile warmed the otherwise cool room, and it was obvious she took great care with her appearance. Small pieces of diamond jewelry glimmered at her wrists and ears adorned with earrings.
Her green eyes brightened as Vi approached the desk. “Hey, I'm here to see Caitlyn Kiramman?”
The woman nodded, and Vi finally noticed the name tag pinned to her blazer: Lily. She turned to her large, expensive-looking computer and began typing quickly without even glancing at the keyboard.
“Name and reason for your visit, please?” Lily asked, looking back at her.
“Violet Locke. I’m filling in for my sister, Powder Locke. She has a meeting scheduled at 8:30 this morning, but she got sick and asked me to take her place.”
“Just one moment, Ms. Locke.”
Lily gave her another polished smile, and suddenly Vi felt painfully out of place. This was nothing like the simple life she was used to, and the unfamiliar sense of helplessness sat heavy in her chest. She rocked slightly on her heels, fingers twitching at the urge to tug nervously at the cuffs of her button up.
After another minute, Lily turned back to her.
“Alright, you’re good to go. Madam Kiramman is expecting you in her office.” She gestured gracefully with a manicured hand. “Take Elevator A to the forty-fifth floor. Sky will escort you from there.”
Vi let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Guess she wasn’t running up the stairs today.
Vi smiled and quietly muttered a “thank you” before hurrying toward the spotless silver elevators. As she pressed the arrow up button, she realized her palms were damp with cold sweat.
She let out a quiet sigh and wiped her hands on her pants while listening to the low rumble of the elevator approaching. When the doors finally opened with a soft ding, she stepped inside and pressed the buttons for the forty-fifth floor. The sudden soft rumble of the elevator going up made her stomach twist.
Damned her nerves.
It wasn’t that she was scared of this woman, though, from the way Powder talked about her and from the rumors she heard on the news, and the little research Vi had done, Caitlyn Kiramman definitely sounded intimidating. It was just… God, all of this felt completely new to her.
New scares the shit out of Vi.
She made a few final adjustments to her button up, attempting hopelessly to flatten out some of the newly-forming wrinkles just from how tightly she’d been tensing her muscles. Would she have felt better if she just went back to sleep on her soft, cotton bed to soothe her nerves?
Oh well, too late now.
She’d already downloaded the interview brief onto her phone and had the file ready to go. She skimmed through the questions, and honestly, they didn’t seem that complicated. All Vi had to do was to record and ask questions. Powder had texted her a reminder to record the conversation so she could transcribe it later and submit the write-up herself.
Easy. Vi totally talked to billionaires every day. Definitely a hobby of hers.
Barely a second after the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, a short brown-skinned woman appeared from the left, hugging a clip board. Her curly hair was pulled back neatly, and a pair of gold glasses matched her navy uniform perfectly. Freckles dotted her round cheeks, bunching up as she flashed Vi a bright smile.
“Ms. Locke?” the woman asked, and only then did Vi notice the name tag pinned to her uniform—Sky. Vi nodded.
“I’ve been tasked to escort you to Madam Kiramman’s office. Please follow me.”
Sky didn't waste a second as she sped walked down the hallway, and Vi hurried after her, distracted by the artwork lining the walls. Between the office doors hung beautiful paintings of nature: one showed a rushing waterfall surrounded by a dense jungle, while another captured a forest filled with flowers, colorful birds, and thick greenery.
Vi had always loved art. Hell, she’d designed the tattoos on her skin herself, down to the smallest detail. It had taken forever to get them right, but now she couldn’t help admiring them whenever she caught herself shirtless in a mirror.
She could respect someone who appreciated art too.
Honestly, this entire floor felt completely different from the cold lobby downstairs. The white marble had been replaced with warm wooden walls, and the lighting had shifted into a soft orange glow that reminded Vi of sunlight or firelight.
There were even more plants here too. Vines hung neatly from copper pots, and carefully arranged flowers sat outside nearly every office door.
What was this building's obsession with plants?
Yet the whole place made Vi feel strangely comfortable, stirring up an old sense of nostalgia. Little by little, her nerves began to settle.
At the end of the hallway stood a dark brown door with a single metal “K” in cursive fixed near the top.
As they approached it, Sky gave Vi a small, encouraging smile before stepping ahead to knock on the wood in a neat rhythm—rap, rap, rap and moved aside right after.
A muffled “come in.” came from inside the room.
Vi returned Sky’s grin, then turned to the handle. She pressed a firm, clammy palm against the gold handle and took a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous. None at all.
God, this door probably cost more than her yearly salary—was that a dumb thought? Probably. She quickly pushed the thought away and opened it.
The office was spacious.
What she thought of big boss offices as void and intimidating, it was surprisingly welcoming. It smelled faintly like wood and coffee.
Tall windows stretched across the far wall, the blinds letting in soft sunlight that spilled over dark wooden shelves and gentle green walls. Plants filled the room. Some in polished copper pots in the corners, others hanging down with leaves and flowers in shades of green, red, and pink.
The entire right wall was a massive bookshelf packed with what looked like over a hundred books, neatly arranged in color-coded sections. A closer look, they weren’t just for decoration. Vi noticed worn spines, bookmarks, and notes tucked between the pages. Art, history, politics, poetry, romance. All seemed thoughtfully cared for books.
The most striking thing in the room, though, was her. The Caitlyn Kiramman in the flesh, standing near the windows with one hand resting lightly on the back of a swivel chair.
Hell, Vi knew she was beautiful from the articles she'd read and the news clips she's seen countless times, but none of that artificial lighting camera bullshit could compare to Caitlyn in natural lighting, looking completely different—real, and absolutely impossible to ignore.
Her shoulders were covered by a perfectly tailored black suit jacket. Everything about her looked sharp and polished, matching black trousers, silver cufflinks, and a charcoal eyepatch that matched the outfit.
Then she turned.
Christ, her face. Vi would’ve blurted out that she looked like she was carved from marble if she wasn't so speechless, but she wasn’t the poetic type, and it sounded ridiculous anyway. Her piercing blue eye, set above strong cheekbones, made her look intense, but the slightest smile on her thin lips softened her expression.
Vi didn’t miss the up-down Caitlyn gave her. Normally, she wouldn’t mind it—hell, she even liked it. But right now, it made her feel a bit off-balance, even if there was also a strange heat building in her stomach. She forced herself to ignore it.
“Ms. Locke,” Caitlyn started.
Fucking hell, of course her voice sounded even better in person. That smooth British accent felt like chilled wine sliding down Vi’s throat—something expensive, soothing and mellowing.
Caitlyn walked toward her, all six feet of height growing more and more imposing with every step.
Caitlyn held out her hand. She lowered her head slightly in a polite gesture, meeting Vi eye to eye, a soft smile still on her lips. Her eye crinkled as her brow lifted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said in all the politeness in the world.
For a moment, Vi froze. Caitlyn was so close now that Vi could catch the faint, pleasant scent of vanilla from her. She stared a second too long before quickly reaching out to shake it, trying to ignore how clammy her palm felt—and how Caitlyn would definitely notice.
Caitlyn’s thumb brushed lightly across Vi’s knuckles during the handshake, and Vi’s thoughts completely scattered. What was she supposed to say? Compliment her suit? Comment on the office? Or thank her for letting her take Powder’s place?
“Yeah, you too,” Vi says, deciding to stay professional.
Truly the best she could come up with.
Thankfully, Caitlyn seems amused. She gives Vi another smile, this time showing a small gap between her teeth. Then she straightens up and gestures toward her desk.
“Please, have a seat.”
Vi sits down, sinking into a brown leather chair and feeling relieved to finally rest her shaky legs.
Caitlyn started toward her chair but stopped, tilting her head as she looked at Vi. “Would you like something to drink?”
Her eye flicked to the left wall, where Vi now noticed a sideboard. On a silver tray was a glass water pitcher, a small coffee carafe, and a few cups and mugs.
“Uh, yeah. Coffee’s fine,” Vi said, already standing up halfway standing out of instinct.
“No.”
The word was firm but calm. It hit Vi like a command, making her freeze and slowly sit back down. Her body is relaxing without her even thinking about it. That felt strange...
Caitlyn slowly shook her head and placed a hand on her chest. “Please, allow me. You’re my guest, after all.”
Guest? I thought I was just a stand-in.
Looking pleased, Caitlyn gave another small nod and turned away, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she walked to the drink station. Vi watched her reach for a white mug before glancing back over her shoulder.
At first, Vi thought Caitlyn was checking something, but then she realized Caitlyn was actually waiting for her answer.
“Just a little milk is fine,” Vi said. Then she cleared her throat when her voice came out rougher than she intended. “Thank you.”
Caitlyn picked up the coffee carafe and poured the dark liquid into the mug, then added a little milk from a small glass container. She stirred it gently with a silver spoon before walking back over to Vi.
As she handed over the mug, her long fingers brushed against Vi’s knuckles again, sending another strange flutter through her chest.
“Thanks,” Vi repeated before taking a sip and letting out a quiet sigh at the comforting warmth sliding down her throat.
Does she do this with all of her guests and fellow business partners? Vi wondered.
Caitlyn walked back behind her large oak desk and sat down, crossing one ankle over the other as her hands rested neatly in her lap. “Powder, was it?”
Vi let out a short laugh. “Actually, it’s Violet. Vi for short. Powder’s my sister. She got sick at the last minute and asked me to fill in for her.”
“She’s an incredibly brilliant woman,” Caitlyn said warmly, glancing off to the side for a moment. “I suppose the two of you are close?”
Vi relaxed a little more, sinking back into the comfortable chair as memories of Powder flooded her mind. Some were bittersweet, sure, but life was finally getting better. And even though missing her sister still hurt like hell, Vi was proud that Powder was out there, building a future for herself. This whole business interview was proof of that.
She took another sip of coffee, thinking back. Powder at eight years old with scraped knees and blue hair dye staining the bathroom sink. Powder at sixteen, squealing and jumping around the house in joy over her acceptance letters. Powder that passed out on her desk with drool on her notes, uncapped highlighters scattered, and ink stains on her fingertips.
“She’s my whole world. Don’t tell her I said that, though,” Vi said with a laugh. “And, uh… sorry about her for basically harassing your PR team. Weird thing to apologize for, I know, but she was really excited about this. It’s a huge project piece for her.”
“No need to apologize. Honestly, I admire it.”
Vi frowned slightly. “Didn’t think you’d want more people harassing you and your company.”
Caitlyn waved a hand dismissively. “That’s not what I meant. I admire what it says about her character. The way she pursued this so determinedly,” she said softly. “That kind of persistence is something I respect very much. If you could pass along my thanks to her, I’d appreciate it.”
Vi blinked once, then again. People like Caitlyn—people born rich, with their whole lives neatly planned out for them—usually treated people like Vi as annoyances and pests. The kind they pushed aside through assistants and cold, short rejection emails.
But Caitlyn said it so naturally, like there was nothing strange or different between them at all.
“I’ll make sure to tell her,” Vi said with a firm nod. Smiling slightly.
Caitlyn smiled once more before her expression became more professional again. “Do you have her questions prepared?”
Vi’s brain froze for a second before shaking her head, quickly pulling her phone from her dress pants. She was still trying to process how easily Caitlyn switched between warm and professional without missing a beat.
Caitlyn Kiramman was already a dangerous woman to Vi's eyes.
Vi placed her phone on the desk and opened the recording app. Then she paused. “Is it alright if I record?”
Caitlyn nodded with a quiet sound of confirmation.
Vi hit record and switched over to the document Powder had sent her, filled with bulleted questions. By the time she looked up again, Caitlyn had moved closer and was now leaning casually against the edge of her desk.
Vi forced herself to look back down at her phone and cleared her throat. “So, uh… you’re twenty-seven and you’ve already built this huge empire. What—or who—do you credit for your success?”
Caitlyn grew quiet for a moment, her gaze distant as she carefully thought through the question. Her lips pressed together briefly before she answered.
“I’d be lying if I said my family and inherited wealth had nothing to do with it. I was born into a life of privilege and immense fame, along with being raised in comfort, and I’m very aware of that.”
She paused before continuing. “But I’ve also spent countless hours trying to make this company better for everyone involved—something I don’t think my mother properly provided, unfortunately. Better incentives, proper healthcare, proper support systems, bonuses. I focus on hiring people who are passionate and dedicated.”
A faint smile creased her lips. “Strangely enough, a lot of businessmen don’t seem to realize how far simple decency can take you. Beyond kindness, though, it’s also about knowing when to stand firm as a leader. Knowing where to stand, and how to stay steady even when an entire boardroom full of experienced men disagrees with you and makes those disagreements very public.”
Vi smiled and raised a brow. “So being a control freak kind of comes with the job, huh?”
Caitlyn’s eye narrowed slightly, though her expression stayed calm and unreadable. She gave a small shrug. “I like to keep a fair amount of control over things, both inside and outside this office.”
The way she said it—so calm, simple, and with an unmistakable tinge of implication made Vi’s stomach twist. Caitlyn’s expression was calm, as if she meant it but will not admit to it. She kept looking at her, and Vi realized, once again, that she was waiting for her response. Her heartbeat thudded hard in her chest.
“Okay, uh…” Vi cleared her throat again and looked back at the script. When did the room get so warm? “Kiramman Enterprises mainly focuses on rebuilding parts of the city. Is that something you actually care about personally? And why fund a college? Do you have bigger plans for it?”
At that, Caitlyn seemed to brighten slightly.
“Yes,” she said, her voice still calm but noticeably warmer. “Very much so.”
Vi glanced up, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely.” Caitlyn crossed her legs and leaned comfortably against the arm of her chair, her hands clasped together over one long thigh. “A city is only as healthy as its people. If you fail the people, you fail the city. Many of the wealthy forget that once they possess a large sum of money, but really…” She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
Vi found herself wondering what went on inside Caitlyn’s head. How much thought she carried around all the time.
Caitlyn Kiramman’s a thinker.
“Wealth means nothing if all you do is hoard it,” Caitlyn continued, pulling Vi back to the conversation. “That’s why I do this. To help where and when I can.”
A brief shadow crossed her face before she lifted a hand slightly, like she was presenting an invisible object in her palm.
“I’ve noticed younger people—especially college students—tend to be far more… opinionated,” she said. “And honestly, that’s a good thing. They aren’t afraid to question systems that older men and women in power have accepted for decades. They challenge ideas no one else has had the courage to challenge.”
This woman wanted to take apart the system that had set her family up in the first place. She wanted to look it dead in the eyes. Huh.
Vi tucked that answer away in her memory and moved on. The next question made her frown slightly as she read it over. Did Powder really write this?
“So, you’ve spoken publicly about your family,” Vi began, noticing Caitlyn tilt her head again out of the corner of her eye, “but not much about your future. Since your family basically runs like a matriarchy, do you plan on having kids?”
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. “Honestly, I’ve never seriously imagined that for myself,” she said. “And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be keen to carry.”
The next thing out of Vi’s mouth happened so fast that even she couldn’t explain it afterward. There was no thought behind it, no careful logic. Just pure, familiar impulse.
Maybe it was the caffeine finally hitting her system. Maybe it was the nerves. Maybe it was the way Caitlyn somehow managed to throw Vi completely off balance just by sitting there and looking at her with her very crystal-blue eye. Or maybe it was a terrible mix of all of it.
The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
“Are you gay?”