BENEATH THE SURFACE

Chapter One

ISABELLA

Defendant - an individual, company, or institution sued or accused in a court of law.

My fingers started to cramp gradually, thanks to the pen I gripped tightly, leaving an imprint on my skin. The professor relentlessly carried on with his lecture, without granting anyone a moment of respite, as he rapidly introduced various terms.

While hastily jotting down the terms and their meanings, I found myself regretting not having used my last paycheck to purchase a laptop.

Observing the room, I couldn't help but notice numerous individuals typing away on their keyboards, which made me question my decision to opt for an iPhone instead of a MacBook.

After a few more minutes of his lecture, it eventually concluded. He stated, "That's all for today's class. Make sure to retain these notes, as they'll prove valuable for your upcoming exam."

I breathed a sigh of relief, quickly packing my notebook and pen into my bag. Just as I reached for my cellphone, it began to vibrate, causing the whole table to shake along with it.

JOB OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME!

My finger lingered over the email notification as I carefully reread the words. I briefly hesitated to click the alert, knowing that these messages often turned out to be scams aiming to collect your personal information.

Looking for the perfect solution to all of your problems? Come work for New York's finest corporation: Petrov.

I narrowed my eyes, double-checking the authenticity of what I had just read. It had to be an incredibly convincing scam because landing an opportunity at Petrov Corp had been impossible for years.

As I kept reading, it dawned on me that I couldn't fulfill certain prerequisites mentioned in the message.

- Always be prepared to drop everything on your schedule to tend to the needs of the company.

My law school commitments already filled my schedule to capacity, and there was simply no room to drop any of my classes to make myself available for this opportunity.

- Work closely with the CEO himself.

While this opportunity might be enticing under normal circumstances, Asher Petrov's reputation as the city's biggest troublemaker made me want to avoid any encounter with him altogether.

The requirements did appear exceedingly demanding, especially with my law school commitments already consuming much of my time. However, the enticing benefits managed to dispel any lingering doubts.

Starting rate: $50 an hour, promotions available for dedicated candidates.

My jaw fell open as I read the words, unsure whether to trust it or not.

7 days a week, 8 hours a day.

I took a slow swallow as I mentally calculated the numbers.

8 hours a day, and 7 days a week. 56 hours a week. $50 an hour. $2800 in a week.

My grip on my phone tightened, and a wave of joy engulfed me. I attempted to temper my optimism, mindful of the impending application process and interview. However, the prospect of that much-needed money was undeniable.

Without a moment's hesitation, I clicked the golden "APPLY NOW!" button and started inputting my details into the application. I was determined to make this opportunity work, willing to go to great lengths to secure the job.

🂱

The journey back home seemed unusually lengthy, with slower-than-expected traffic. Upon arriving, I dropped my keys into the ceramic bowl by the table next to the front door and kicked off my shoes.

I've submitted my application and now it's awaiting review, but I couldn't shake the persistent thoughts swirling in my head. Desperation for this job didn't even begin to describe how much I needed it.

As I settled onto the couch, the TV suddenly sprang to life, its audio blaring from the compact soundbar. I startled at the volume, swiftly rising from my seat, only to realize I had unwittingly sat on the remote.

I picked up the remote and carefully set it on the glass table in front of the sofa, exhaling a sigh of relief as I reclaimed my seat.

Even though I had a stack of studying to tackle, I found myself getting engrossed in an episode of South Park. I was aware of my looming responsibilities, but I couldn't muster the energy to address them. So, I sank deeper into the couch, occasionally laughing at Eric's terrible jokes.

An hour had slipped by since I'd returned home, and I remained firmly planted on the couch, reluctant to move. Then, out of the blue, my phone started ringing.

I closed my eyes for a moment, fully anticipating the call to be from my sister, who often believed I needed a babysitter ever since I'd moved to New York.

"Yes, Sophia, I'm safely home," I answered, quickly bringing the phone to my ear to preempt her usual overbearing questions. "No, I didn't get attacked on the way home," I added with an eye roll. "And yes, I'll be sure not to wear sexy panties, just to avoid giving any attackers satisfaction." I paused, awaiting her response.

"Asher Petrov," a deep male voice resonated through my cellphone, sending a chill through my entire body. "I'm relieved you made it home safely, but I'm not Sophia," the voice continued. I bit my lip, holding back any further words.

"I received your application, and I'd like you to come into the office for an interview tomorrow," the voice said. My eyes shot open in surprise. He still wanted to interview me after that embarrassingly bad speech?

I hesitated for a brief moment, unsure of how to respond. "Okay, great," I finally managed, my voice trembling slightly. "I'll be there."

"Perfect," he responded without hesitation, and the call ended, leaving me alone with my embarrassment. I couldn't believe what had just happened.

The thought of meeting this man face-to-face tomorrow, especially after my earlier conversation, left me feeling mortified. My face burned with embarrassment, and I was certain that if I looked in the mirror, I'd resemble a tomato.

I sank back into the couch once more, paying no attention to whatever was playing on the TV. Instead, I found myself replaying the embarrassing conversation over and over in my head.

I clung to the hope that by tomorrow, he might have forgotten the entire conversation. It was this small glimmer of hope that kept me going because otherwise, I might have been tempted to stay on the couch forever and skip the interview.

After spending a considerable amount of time rehearsing what I would say to him, with the written apology filling numerous pages in my notepad, I eventually decided to conclude my evening with a relaxing shower. I hoped that a good night's rest might help me put this embarrassing encounter behind me.