The Next Chapter: Twisted Series Next Generation

Chapter 1: Sofia Volkov

Sofia:

An antiqued feeling of nerves that I believed I prided myself for dissipating a while ago finally reappeared the one moment I desire some mental stability. The constant reminder of keeping the perfect picture of professionalism to secure the position.

Meaning no nail biting Sofia, you are no longer a little girl, grow up.

Lifting my hand and pressing the tip of my finger on my hairline, relieved at the lack of sweat forming there, however the effect it leaves on my nerves is beyond useless.

Pressing the flat of my palm on my knee to retrain it from making a sudden movement as I smile back at whoever crosses me so I do not look like some miserable fool.

My brother told me to take the easy route and just get a job at dads company but unlike him, I did not spend my school years taking the easiest route to success. I know my dads big motto is professionalism and he would never let anything break that, but for a fact it is well known that if I took a job from him, he would still end up babying me somehow with his protectiveness, the last thing I need is a pedestal.

"Ms. Volkov."

My ears perk up at the sound of my name. I snap my head up as a smile graces my face, reminding myself to keep a perfect workplace facade. Fixing my expression while standing up from my seat and making my way toward the announcer of my name.

The lady has similar auburn hair as aunt Jules just an inch lighter, tucked neatly back in a bun revealing no flyaways. Her eyes carry out a friendly look as delicate lines crinkle at her face. The movement of her hand in front of me causes me to jolt into work mode as her head tilts. "I'm the lead journalist for team seven, Mrs. Forester."

Returning her calm expression, my hand meets hers in a firm but not too hard like shake."It's nice to meet you Mrs Forester."

"Have you been given a tour of the building yet?"

"Only towards where my desk is."

Her smile grows as the noise of her clasped hands ring my ears, "Well, there's no time like the present. Please follow me."

Mentally, I slap myself in the face for including unnecessary information, number one rule in business, don't act like a blundering idiot. Pushing my shoulders back and keeping my stance confident, I keep my strides up with hers as she adds whatever specifics I should know about the office.

I keep attuned to her however my focus is on paying attention to details I hadn't already discovered.

Webster journals owns an incredible amount of offices across the globe, at least two being in washington. A great competitor of Archer group, yet dads company outdoes him by a literal centimeter. Well, it's my duty to grow it into a meter.

Despite my family's contrary beliefs about me, I have no interest in journalism. My dream had always been to take over dad's company, however in an attempt to win over the board who sees me as daddys princess, I'll show them by bringing them dirt on dads biggest competitor.

Vivid images of watching the stocks for Archer go down greatly as the bastard who runs this company posted a specific article that led the attempt to drag dad down. In all the years of his work, this was the one serious attempt that actually left a dent on the company.

That was the day the reality check on how brutal people can be, and how it's practically a bloodbath. Well, I am ready to feed into it if that's what it takes to assure what's mine.

Mrs. Forester, whose first name I have not been accompanied to learn, leads me through the beautiful building. As much as I would love to smash a competitor's window, these windows are too pretty to destroy.

She goes on about all that has been accomplished here which forces me to contain any unnecessary eye rolling, mom always said I looked dangerously like dad whenever I eyerolled. I was not exactly sure if she meant that as a compliment or not.

Mrs. Forester abruptly halts, causing me to follow along to cause any resistance in me clashing into her. Her head swivels back into my direction as she points a palm at a secluded room, "My office Ms. Volkov, my door is open whenever any assistance is required. We are very glad to have you on our team."

Not for long you will be.

Offering her my courteous nods, assuring her I require no guidance back to where my desk is to me.

Bidding goodbyes with her while my hair falls off of my shoulder as my heels turn to walk in the opposite direction to where the demise begins. The nerves have died down at the thoughts of sweet victory once I watch this place crumble. A coy smile spreads on my face as I brush my hair out of my face, any person paying close attention would be able to catch a glimpse of the scheming glint in my eyes.

Coming to halt in front of a small low kept desk as all my items are gently placed on it. Carefully adjusting everything so it's perfectly aligned and nothing is out of place.

Perfection is key to success.

Next step, demise.