Take One More Step

🩰Thirty-four🩰

POV Akhyra

On Monday, I send a message asking Hannah and Valentino to come in earlier than usual. Since Enchanted Shadows debuted, Hannah has been shooting a vlog series about my morning routines, including exercises, meal prep, and a Q&A session for the subscribers who are either ballet dancers or simply lovers of the art. 

I'm sitting on the couch when I hear them come in. I had given Hannah a double key because I don't like to be disturbed by opening the door during my morning exercises.

They both seem to be discussing a movie that they saw in theaters the night before. Hannah makes a joke about how Valentino gripped her hand tighter during a particularly scary sequence. 

"I was just checking on you," he protests.

"That's what you were also doing when you ducked behind the bucket of popcorn?"

"In my defense, I did not pick the movie." 

They're still at it when they walk into the living room. They briefly greet me before resuming their banter as Valentino helps her set up the filming equipment. 

"I still can't believe you found a wild beast good-looking." He shakes his curly head in mock disappointment. 

Hannah lets out an offended gasp. "A werewolf isn't a wild beast."

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't realize they were just big fuzzy cats craving for belly rubs."

"That's exactly what they are."

"Since that's your thing, should I start growing hair everywhere and only speak to you in growls and grunts?"

A short moment of stunned silence hangs between them before they burst out laughing. There's a painful twist in my chest when I realize that I'm going to miss having their energy around.

"Eliott and Eden, can you please come over here."

They both sober up quickly and throw me astonished glances. I haven't used their real names in ages. When they sit down opposite me, it's easy to notice how nervous they are. It's best to get this over quickly.

"These are for you," I say, pointing toward the two manilla envelopes on the coffee table. 

They look at each other before grabbing them, and even as they open it, I can tell they're trying their best not to ask what's inside. Their eyes roam over the documents, and I notice the exact moment that they understand what's going on when clear disbelief paints their face as they look up at me.

"You're firing us?" Hannah asks bewildered. 

"I'm not firing you. This is simply a termination of contract because I don't require your services anymore."

Props to my lawyer for sending these via email at five when I called him. 

"I don't understand why you're doing this now," Valentino interjects. "You're in the middle of a media storm, and soon it will get bigger when you release that video about Ambrose Montgomery that we shot the other night. That's not the time to get rid of your strategic team."

"Did we do something?" Hannah asks.

I can taste their hurt. 

"You did nothing wrong," I clarify. "I value all the work you've accomplished during your employment for the past two years, and I've put recommendation letters inside the envelopes as well as your annual bonus. Eventually, every good partnership has to come to an end. And that's the end of ours."