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My Mate is Another Woman's Fate  Novel Cover

My Mate is Another Woman's Fate

She found her true mate... but he belongs to another. Dana never expected to find her fated mate in the heart of the city - especially not in her cold, brilliant, and heartbreakingly human boss. Kos is a billionaire inventor, engaged to a woman the world sees as perfect. And worst of all... he doesn't feel the bond. To reveal the truth would make her look desperate, maybe even insane. Who would believe that a shy assistant is his destined mate - and not just after his name or fortune? But the bond is real. The ache is real. And when fate forces them together, nothing will ever be the same. Can a heart blinded by reason learn to feel what only instincts can see? Or will Dana lose him - before he even realizes she was his all along?
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Chapter 12

Having picked out my lunch, I sit down at a free table. There are so many employees here! What amazes me is how different they all look. Some are dressed in business suits, while others wear outfits completely uncharacteristic for such a firm. There are people in jeans, shorts, and t-shirts, and even a few with brightly dyed hair and extravagant hairstyles. Maybe this cafeteria isn't just for our company's staff?

I barely have time to think about it before some guy casually sits down next to me. Skinny, wearing something like a courier's uniform. A long black fringe peeks out from under his cap.

"Hi, you're new here? I'm Theo," he says as if we've known each other forever.

"Hi. My name's Dana. Yes, it's my first day at work," I reply, still a little embarrassed at his invasion of my modest personal space.

The guy smiles, dimples forming on his cheeks.

"Well, nice to meet you. What do you do here?"

"I'm Margarita assistant."

The boy lets out a low whistle, clearly surprised.

"I see. So how's it working with the she-dragon?" he asks, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Those words about my employer didn't sit too well with me. Although, to be fair, I hadn't really worked with her long enough yet-maybe he was right.

"Why do you call her a she-dragon? She seems like a normal woman. We haven't had any conflicts so far. And what about you? What do you do here?" I tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"I'm a courier. I deliver mail and food from the cafeteria to the offices. So, if they load you up with work and you don't have time to eat, just call me," he said, handing me a flyer with the number of the service.

"Alright. But now, maybe we should actually eat? Lunch break isn't endless, and I really don't want to be late on my first day," I replied, no longer looking at him as I turned to my meal.

We began eating, exchanging a few casual phrases. It turned out the cafeteria was, in fact, private, and those people with the sometimes striking appearances were actually some of the best inventors here. The office staff adhered to a strict dress code, but the engineers and inventors could dress however they liked, since they were seen as creative personalities and highly valued. They were, so to speak, the "stars" of the company. Thanks to them, the firm continued to develop and move forward with many projects.

After lunch, Theo escorted me to the HR department before heading off to his own business.

In HR, they told me they were overloaded at the moment and asked me to just leave my documents with them. They promised to email me a contract with all my data, so I could double-check everything and sign it with an electronic key. Afterwards, I'd be able to pick up my papers anytime. That's exactly what I did.

When I returned to my desk, I couldn't understand what was going on. People were carrying equipment and furniture out of the director's office, and he himself was no longer there. What, did they decide to start renovations while I was gone?

But as I looked closer, I realized everything was either broken or smashed apart. What on earth had happened here?

"What happened here?" I asked Margarita, unable to hide my shock. She just rubbed the bridge of her nose with a tired gesture.

"Nothing serious. Don't worry. It looks like the meeting simply didn't go as planned."

"And does it often not go as planned?" I couldn't help but press further.

"Not to this extent-this is the first time. Don't worry, he never lashes out at the staff."

Alright, I'll take her word for it. But judging by the destroyed furniture, he's stronger than he looks. My wolf inside gave a pleased snort at that, quietly impressed with the power of our pair. Human or not, I wouldn't want to be the one to push him into a fight.

"Oh, and Dana! Tomorrow we'll need to come to work earlier. They're bringing in new equipment and furniture for the office. We'll have to oversee it and make sure everything is set up properly."

*******

Konstantin

I'm furious! I've been pounding the punching bag for hours. How could he?! Then again... of course he could. That's exactly the kind of thing my father would do. Always so inventive with his own twisted version of "care."

"Investments in the future," my ass.

After my mother died, I was a difficult child. I was thirteen when she passed away. Cancer. Such a short word, yet so terrifying for anyone. I loved her deeply, I was bound to her. She fought hard, but in the end, she couldn't win.

Just a year later, my father remarried. And it was as if a chasm had opened between us. I was grieving, and I couldn't accept his hasty, brand-new choice.

That was when the rebel in me woke up. I got into fights with boys, was rude to everyone, a typical teenager angry at the whole world. I constantly caused my father problems and headaches.

Until he shipped me off to a closed private boys' school. Money was never an issue for him. David Pavlovich Molotovsky, my father, owned a paint-and-varnish factory. It had been passed down to him from his father, and before that, from his grandfather. A family business through generations.

But none of that interested me. I hated that school almost as much as I hated my father at the time. And yet... it helped me.

At that school, I discovered my passion for inventing. By the time I was sixteen, I already had my first patent-an invention designed to help people with disabilities move with minimal effort.

Ideas poured out of me as if from a horn of plenty. I had no shortage of them. At that time, my greatest support was my descriptive geometry teacher, Margarita Alexandrovna Schmidt. She was the one who saw my potential, who cared for me and always helped. I owe her a great deal, and that's why she now works for me. I know I can always rely on her.

But success doesn't come on its own. To launch my business, I needed finances. So, I turned to my father. He helped with funding and in return became the owner of forty percent of MoTech.

My business grew quickly. More and more of my inventions gained demand, and now the whole world knows about my company. Within its walls, some of the best technicians and brightest engineering minds are gathered.

Two years ago, my father passed away suddenly. A stroke. He left for work in the morning, got into his car... but never made it there. They found him still inside the vehicle. His shares temporarily passed to me. At the time, I didn't pay much attention to the word "temporarily." That was a mistake.

Today, his lawyers came to see me and hit me with a clause in his will. It states that if I don't marry by the time I turn thirty, those shares will pass to our rival company Logitronik. And the man who heads that firm... he's such a vile bastard that I know he'd ruin everything I've built.

And as if that wasn't enough, it isn't just about marriage. I would also have to remain married for at least five years. To make it even worse, my father appointed his best friend, Makar, as a sort of watchdog. At any time, Makar can show up at my house to "verify" the sincerity of my relationship with my wife. After those five years, if Makar confirms the marriage as genuine, the shares will finally pass to me fully and permanently.

My father often hinted that it was time for me to start a family of my own, but to put that into his will-that was a low blow. Clearly, the matter weighed on him far more than I ever realized. And now... there are only two months left until my thirtieth birthday!

Lyoshka, damn him!

That's what my father used to call his favorite lawyer. A scrawny little weed with two degrees, always hovering around my old man. After Father passed away, that snake deliberately kept this clause from me, because he'd struck a deal with the director of that cursed Logitronik, Pyotr Veniaminovich Savelyev. Looks like Alexey had been promised a nice fat slice in exchange for my father's shares.

And I would've gone on in blissful ignorance, if Lyoshka hadn't slipped up during one of his shady money schemes and ended up behind bars. That's when new lawyers stepped into my father's firm-the ones who paid me a visit today.

The moment they left my office, I let my fury loose and wrecked everything in sight. Everything that once stood or hung neatly in that office was reduced to splinters and debris.

I need a wife.

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