Konstantin entered the room, his footsteps soft against the polished floor. He carried with him an aura of calm, though beneath it I knew lay the unrelenting energy of a man whose dreams were larger than life itself. He moved with a quiet purpose, settling into the chair opposite mine as though the weight of his ambitions had no claim on him that evening.

“You’re lost in thought again,” he said, his voice low and steady, breaking the silence but not disturbing it.

“Always,” I replied, my gaze momentarily shifting to the fire before returning to meet his. “But tonight, my thoughts are on the future. What we’ve created here… it feels like the first steps of something far greater, doesn’t it?”

He leaned forward, his eyes reflecting the firelight, their depths alight with something far beyond determination. “The first steps, yes. But what lies ahead is vast, Eugénie. It will demand more than effort; it will demand vision and courage. The question is, do you trust me to take us there?”

The room seemed to hold its breath again, his words hanging in the air like the embers of the fire. I studied him carefully, taking in the unwavering intensity of his gaze. Konstantin was no ordinary man. His every move, every decision, was guided by an extraordinary gift —the intuition to see what others could not, and the boldness to make it real.

“Konstantin,” I said softly but firmly, “I trust you as I trust no one else. You make the impossible feel tangible – not because you speak of it, but because you create it. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. If you say we can go further, then I am with you. All the way.”

For the first time, his expression softened. A rare vulnerability flickered behind the resolute exterior he so carefully maintained. “You see the man I strive to be,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “But it’s about more than ambition. It’s about creating something enduring, something bigger than myself – or any of us. A country, Eugénie – a place where every resource, every decision, is aligned to not just build wealth, but to transform lives. That is my dream.”

His words struck me deeply, not with surprise but with a profound sense of understanding. “And you believe it can be done?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

He smiled then, a genuine, wry expression that carried the weight of conviction. “I don’t just believe it – I know it. Look around. A helicopter, a boat, a house, companies around the world – they aren’t distractions. They are threads in the same fabric. When I build, I solve. I don’t just create opportunities; I create meaning. Every move, every project, every decision – it’s all part of a single design.”

“And yet,” I murmured, glancing at him, “you always find the time. You are always there, Konstantin, always reachable, always steady. How do you manage it all?”

He leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed on the fire, the flames reflected in his eyes. “Because I must. People need to feel that they can depend on me, that their hopes and dreams are as safe in my hands as my own. That is what leadership is, Eugénie. It is not just about building towers – it is about building trust.”

The silence returned then, but it was no longer empty. It was alive, brimming with unspoken truths and the quiet rhythm of mutual understanding. Finally, he turned to me, his expression searching, his voice low but steady.

“And you, Eugénie – are you ready to build with me? To carry this vision forward, no matter the cost?”

I met his gaze, unwavering, my answer as sure as the fire’s glow. “With you, Konstantin, I am ready for anything. Because this is more than a dream – it is a purpose. And we will make it a reality.”