Marta Becknats quickly gathered herself, responding to Simon's casual greeting before he turned his attention to the girl in his arms. Leaning close, he murmured softly, asking if she was "still hurting." Marta caught a glimpse of the girl blushing, nodding and then shaking her head, looking a bit flustered. Marta almost wanted to roll her eyes.
As an observant woman, Marta had formed her own opinions about the Banchikova trio. If she had to name the most cunning and worldly among them, it would undoubtedly be the youngest, who now nestled comfortably in Simon's lap. The girl knew exactly how to mask herself with an innocent, vulnerable demeanor that easily invited pity and affection.
Though Marta generally paid little attention to the younger girl, she had noticed a few telling behaviors. For example, when Simon had gifts sent to the girls—clothes, shoes, bags—this one subtly chose the most expensive brands, showing a discernment lacking in the other girls, who were still unaccustomed to luxury. Her language skills, too, were impressive; teachers remarked on her quick progress in English and French, and Marta had noticed her navigating the computer with ease to browse the internet.
Compared to her mother and sister, both of whom seemed genuinely meek and not especially bright, this girl was a clever little fox—one who clearly knew how to catch a man's attention, as shown by how she had now drawn Simon's gaze to her petite, sock-clad feet. Marta couldn't help feeling a touch of envy.
The girl's small stature worked to her advantage here. In this estate, where most of the women stood over 5'7", she stood out as the only one barely over 5 feet. Marta reflected that men, after becoming accustomed to a certain type, often developed new preferences. She half-wished she could suddenly shrink by eight inches herself.
Simon, however, didn't particularly care whether his companions were shrewd or naive. Much like a cat lover would adore all cats regardless of quirks or mishaps, he seemed equally amused by all types.
Ewa Banchikova, who sat sweetly in Simon's lap, soon ventured a question: "Simon, did you come to Rivne by private jet?"
"Yes," he replied.
"I've never flown before," the girl said, her clear, expectant gaze meeting his. "Neither has Mama. Or Galina. Could we… maybe go to London?"
With a faint smile, Simon cupped the girl's cheek. "Why London? It's either raining or gloomy there—not much fun."
Ewa blinked her pretty pale eyes. Truthfully, she was eager to leave Ukraine, destination aside. Lately, she'd been secretly exploring the world online and had grown curious about England and France, given her recent progress in English and French. If she had to choose, she opted for London, knowing recent news from Paris might not sit well with him.
Keeping her real motives concealed, she ducked her head and added a bit shyly, "I just want to see more of the world."
Simon didn't probe further and agreed easily. "All right, we'll arrange a trip soon. Eve will handle the details, and you can bring Galina and Natalia along."
Ewa was thrilled by how effortlessly he agreed; she didn't even need the little arguments she'd prepared. Emboldened, she quickly leaned up and gave him a peck on the lips. "Simon, you're so good to us—thank you."
The cool touch of her lips lingered, and Simon looked to Galina, who seemed excited and a bit envious that her sister was being held by Simon. When he turned to her, she shyly leaned over and kissed him as well.
Once he had turned his attention back to Ewa, she added, "Simon, what about Yulia and the others?"
Simon tapped her cheek lightly. "This is a reward for you. They don't get to go."
In truth, Simon had no intention of letting an entire group of girls travel together, which would draw too much attention. He had no desire for a repeat of the "London Girl" incident. He actually preferred the subtle rivalries that formed among the girls at the estate, finding them useful.
Yes, he was fully aware of the cliques forming among them.
After all, the Westeros family's private intelligence network was comprehensive in monitoring Rivne. Everything, no matter how trivial, made its way to Simon, though he often skimmed or didn't read the reports at all. Even so, all records were kept, archived for reference if needed.
After a few more minutes of conversation, Simon let the girl go. "It's getting late. Go up to the bedroom and wait for me. I'll be up soon."
She obediently rose, bid Marta goodnight, and tugged her sister along. As they entered the hallway, Galina whispered excitedly, "We really get to go to London?"
Ewa, concealing her own glee, replied with a flawless display of excitement, "Of course. Simon wouldn't lie to us."
The girls reached the main hall and ascended the stairs. Suddenly, Galina remembered something. "But, Ewa, if we go to London, we won't have money to buy anything. Mama only has a few thousand dollars."
As newcomers, the girls didn't yet receive the $200,000 annual allowance that Eve received. While their daily needs were met lavishly, their monthly allowance was only $1,000—a significant amount to them but surely insufficient for a trip abroad.
When it came to allowances, Simon rarely paid attention. Some women received more, some less, and others none at all. If they asked directly, he usually didn't refuse, but otherwise, it was handled rather randomly or quietly managed by the two Jennys or A Girl.
For instance, allowances here at the hot spring estate were managed by Sophia, who oversaw the European team.
Ewa, unconcerned, reassured her sister. "Don't worry—Simon will make the arrangements."
Growing more excited, Galina held her sister's hand as they entered the large suite, only used when Simon was present. The spacious suite had a sitting room, a bedroom, and an attached bath, totaling nearly 200 square meters—larger than most apartments.
Galina glanced around, her gaze lingering on the bedroom's large bed as memories from last night flushed her cheeks. She led her sister to the sitting room's sofa instead, intending to wait patiently.
Seeing Ewa glance at the computer on the desk, Galina warned, "Ewa, better wait until Simon isn't around to use it. He might not like us touching things."
"I know," Ewa said with an obedient nod.
Having just won permission for the London trip, she quickly restrained herself, letting her sister take the lead. This was a survival strategy she'd learned early on. Whenever their father lashed out, her mother and sister usually bore the brunt, while her own meek, obedient demeanor led them to instinctively protect her.
This approach had saved her from many beatings over the years.
The girls waited quietly. Just as Ewa was about to prompt her sister, Galina seemed to remember something and whispered, "Do you think Mama's asleep?"
Feigning ignorance, Ewa replied, "It's late—she should be asleep."
Looking uncertain, Galina fiddled with her skirt, hesitating. "You know… Simon… he seemed to like it last night."
"Hmm?"
Ewa blushed, mirroring her sister's nervous hand movements.
"I… Mama has a phone in her room. Maybe we should call her and have her come here?" Galina suggested, sounding both hopeful and apologetic. "Ewa, I think it'd be good for us. This way… Simon might like us more."
Ewa gave a small, shy nod. "I understand."
"So… should I call?"
"Yes."
Seeing no objection, Galina reached for the phone and dialed her mother's room. Perhaps lying was instinctual, for she quickly claimed that Simon wanted her mother to come over.
After hanging up, Galina glanced at her sister, her nerves soothed by Ewa's comforting hand.
Meanwhile, back in the sitting room, Simon reclined on the sofa, crossing his legs and smiling at Marta. "I hear you've been bullying Natalia lately."
Marta hadn't expected this topic and quickly sifted through her thoughts. Did her boss know about it firsthand, or had someone informed him? Her mind raced, but she kept her response brief, taking responsibility without excuse. "I'm sorry, Boss. I won't do it again."
Simon showed no sign of pursuing the matter further and gestured toward the coffee table. Marta quickly poured a cup and handed it to him, ready to retreat when he motioned for her to stay. She knelt obediently at his feet, her blue eyes meeting his.
He lifted her chin to study her face. "You have beautiful eyes. I like women with beautiful eyes."
"Thank you, Boss."
He let go, and Marta, sensing his indifference to her hand resting on his knee, stayed close. "You studied economics at Kyiv University?"
"Yes."
"Your grades were excellent. Why didn't you continue?"
Marta's expression turned somber. "Boss, in Ukraine, what's the point of studying?"
"Of course, there's value," Simon replied, shaking his head. "One of the biggest failings of most educational systems is making students feel that studying is useless. By the time they graduate, many have no idea why they studied in the first place. This, in my view, is a failure of both parents and teachers. When a child questions their studies, they should be told why, not given vague promises of 'a better future'
or the infamous 'it's for your own good.' Such platitudes only breed resistance."
Marta, nestled at his feet like a contented cat, gently countered, "Boss, maybe it's not entirely the fault of parents or teachers."
Simon welcomed her perspective. "Go on."
"Most people are ordinary, leading average, unremarkable lives," Marta explained. "If they themselves don't understand the purpose of education, how can they clearly guide their children?"
Simon paused, conceding the point.
She was right—mediocrity was indeed the norm. Many parents saw education as a way for their children to rise beyond their current class. However, if they couldn't envision life at the top, they couldn't impart that vision to their children.
But this was a problem that, ultimately, had little relevance to him.
He refocused on Marta's elegant face, noting her neat, pinned-up hair. With her light blonde hair, he was reminded of another prominent woman in Ukraine. He smiled. "Ever thought of becoming Ukraine's next Tymoshenko?"
Marta's eyes brightened at the question, and she quickly replied, "Of course."
In this country, any ambitious woman—or man—would aspire to Tymoshenko's level of success.
Marta Becknats was no different. The moment she received an invitation to join the Westeros team, she accepted without hesitation. To even slightly capture the attention of this man beside her, to possibly become one of those women shining within the Westeros circle, she would use every bit of her resourcefulness.
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