Chapter Text
Vi paused in the doorway and took a deep breath.
The air inside Kiramman Enterprises carried a kind of quiet pressure that pressed back against her chest the moment she crossed the threshold, as though the building had been designed to discourage anything less than sleek and polished from entering through the grand marble doors.
And sleek and polished Vi was not.
She wasn’t careless with how she looked, never had been. But she had a rough sort of charm that didn’t quite fit in grand buildings like these. Her hair was bright pink, shaved close at the sides and for business, pulled back into a tight knot at the crown of her head. A thin scar cut across her lower lip, pale against her skin, catching the light when she tilted her head, and she wore it the same way she wore everything else, with confidence. Her clothes were layered, dark fabrics, clean lines softened by wear, a leather jacket that had been broken in properly rather than tailored to look like it had been. Solid boots, enough to hold their own on concrete and steel, scuffed but not sloppy. Nothing accidental. Just about professional, in her own way. But Vi thought it suited her, she wouldn’t look right dressed in the kind of formalwear the people around her wore, not really.
Whatever standard Kiramman Enterprises measured itself by wasn’t one she naturally fit into.
The city noise dulled behind her, reduced to a distant murmur that filtered through glass and height, and the name on the wall ‘KIRAMMAN’ in large metallic letters made of brushed steel and sharp lines. It screamed money, and the inside looked exactly how she expected it to look, which was almost disappointing in itself.
She crossed the lobby toward the reception desk, marble cool and unmarked beneath the lights, and stopped in front of the secretary, who looked up with a professional smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I have an appointment with Ms. Kiramman,” Vi said.
The woman glanced at her screen, fingers moving quickly. “Of course.” She stood, already reaching for a badge. “If you’ll come with me.”
They passed through security and toward the elevators at the far end of the lobby, their doors tall and reflective, swallowing the space around them. When they stepped inside, the doors slid shut with a soft, decisive sound, into dim light and steel, and the ascent began almost imperceptibly at first, smooth and silent enough that Vi only noticed they were moving by the way her ears adjusted.
The city fell away as they rose, floors ticking past without ceremony, the glass walls now offering brief, narrowing glimpses of Piltover stretching out below them. Impressive, Vi thought.
Still, as the elevator climbed, she could see her reflection faintly in the glass, fractured by light and movement, and she knew exactly how she would read to people up here. Edgy and unconventional to put it politely. Risky if people were feeing rude. She didn’t look like she belonged in a place built from marble and generational family wealth, and she’d stopped trying to fix that a long time ago. Vi had learned that fitting in and being taken seriously were two different things, and if she had to choose, she’d take the second every time.
She was nervous, she realised. Something she didn’t often feel anymore in the sense that made her shake or stumble, but a low, restless kind, that buzzed behind her ribs. She was used to having to prove herself a little harder than most, but Kiramman Enterprises had a reputation that made even her stop: old, untouchable, one of the big dogs through sheer longevity alone. And then there was Caitlyn Kiramman. She’d seen the photos in the briefing, photos that had made her chest tighten. Caitlyn’s picture had glossy midnight-blue hair, a refined expression, but large blue eyes that looked kind and genuine. Stoic, Vi had thought, but nevertheless she had felt herself feeling drawn to her. Vi would never admit it, but she knew that her reaction had nothing to do with business, was why her nerves were fraying at the edges already.
When the elevator finally slowed, it opened onto a quiet floor of glass and steel and plush carpets. The secretary led Vi down a short corridor and stopped in front of a set of grand double doors. This place is expensive expensive Vi thought to herself.
The woman knocked and opened it ajar.
“Ms. Kiramman?” she said. “Your appointment is here.”
Caitlyn Kiramman rose from behind her desk as Vi stepped fully inside, her movements efficient and automatic. The chair scraped lightly against the floor, just enough to draw Vi’s attention, and there was the faintest flush at the edges of her cheeks, almost imperceptible, quickly smoothed over by her composure. She was tall, impeccably dressed, and when her bright blue eyes lifted to meet Vi’s, there was a brief flicker there, something like anticipation, or perhaps bracing, that vanished almost immediately, hidden behind a sheen of professionalism. She’s gorgeous, Vi thought despite herself, and she tried to push away the fluttering feeling in her stomach as she watched her walk towards her.
“Vi,” Caitlyn said, her voice even, clipped at the edges but not unkind as she offered her a small polite smile. “Welcome.” There was warmth in it, but it was restrained and carefully portioned.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Vi replied.
Caitlyn gestured to the chair opposite her desk, and Vi sat, grounding herself in the solid contact of her boots against the floor, while she mirrored her movement and folded her hands neatly together. Her posture was flawless, straight-backed, but Vi noticed the way her fingers pressed together, knuckles paling just slightly, as if it required effort.
“So,” Caitlyn began, her voice low and carefully controlled, “I’ve reviewed your portfolio. It’s impressive, for someone who is so—” she hesitated, just briefly, “—new to the industry. You have a lot of experience in other areas that could be applied to working in this kind of environment. It can be very cutthroat.”
Vi bit back a smile.
It wasn’t a compliment exactly, but it wasn’t a slight either. Vi was used to her background becoming the focal point of conversations like this sooner or later, at least they were getting it out the way quickly.
Some people loved the idea of an ex-con in a creative role, found it provocative, a convenient shorthand for authenticity in a city full of trend chasing. Whilst other people struggled to get past it entirely.
Vi had suspected Caitlyn would fall somewhere closer to the latter, maybe a little judgementally, she realised, and yet it hadn’t been phrased offensively, and hadn’t reached for implication or judgment like some might.
She’d had these interactions a hundred times over. People often liked to push a little when they first met her, just to see where the boundaries were, to test how much space they could take up before she pushed back. But this hadn’t felt like that. It was just a statement, delivered clinically, as though Caitlyn had weighed the information and filed it away without attaching much emotion to it at all.
And Vi didn’t mind that at all. She could work with that.
“Thanks,” Vi said, leaning forward slightly in her chair. “I’m not here to just impress anyone, though. I’m here to get to know you, and the company. What it’s about. What makes it work. What doesn’t.”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, a subtle tightening around her brow that suggested she hadn’t quite anticipated that answer, and Vi caught the calculation that followed, the quiet reassessment. She was clearly skeptical, maybe even wary, and she definitely wasn’t the type to be charmed for charm’s sake.
“Mm,” Caitlyn murmured, her gaze drifting down to the paperwork on her desk, as if meeting Vi’s eyes suddenly required more effort than she was willing to give. “That’s exactly what we need. I suppose.”
And now Vi found herself desperately trying not to roll her eyes. There was no warmth behind the words, no enthusiasm to match the hope that Vi could actually help turn things around. It was like she was humouring her. She was used to skepticism, but it did rub her the wrong way a little. She’d barely been here five minutes, but she could already tell that Caitlyn was one of those people who didn’t like to admit she needed anything.
But still, it was fine. She would prove herself like she always did.
Vi kept her tone friendly, letting the space between them stay open. “You don’t have to take my word for it. I’m here to prove it. I’m not asking for anything, or trying to take control of the brand…I know that’s what a lot of people think when they hire a creative director. That somebody will come in and try to rewrite the blueprints from the ground up.” She paused, then added, more quietly, “That’s not what I’m about. I’m offering help in the way this company is perceived by the public, but I want to do that enhancing the creative direction, and supporting what already exists.”
Caitlyn didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched just long enough to feel uncomfortable, and when she finally spoke, her lips pressed into a thin line first, as if she were reconsidering her own honesty. “I’m not looking for help,” she muttered, quieter this time, almost as though she regretted saying it even as it left her mouth “The board have decided to intervene, but for the record I’ve been handling Kiramman Enterprises for over ten years”
Vi sat there for a moment, taken aback.
“Okay” she said, a little unsure of where to go with the conversation. “And are you happy with the way things are?” she asked, the words left her mouth before she’d fully thought them through. It was meant sincerely, not a dig, and not a challenge… something she might have asked in a different room, under different circumstances, as a way of figuring out where the real work needed to begin. But the moment the words settled between them, she felt the shift in the tone of the conversation, like pressing down on a bruise she hadn’t known existed.
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together just slightly before she spoke, a reaction so quick and involuntary that Vi caught it immediately.
Vi could tell that Caitlyn had noticed her noticing, and a pink tinge crept into her complexion. She gripped the arms of her chair, like she was trying to hold herself steady. “Like I said, I’ve been handling Kiramman Enterprises for years,” she said, her voice suddenly sharper, more clipped. “I know exactly what this company needs.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Vi said gently. “I wasn’t questioning your ability. It can be a difficult job. Sometimes you just need somebody to come in with a fresh perspective. I’m here to work with you, Ms Kiramman, not to work in spite of your hard work”
“A fresh perspective.”
The words came out stiff. Caitlyn didn’t raise her voice, but it was clear that she didn’t like being questioned, maybe even less when help was offered.
Vi sat there, uncomfortableness twisting in her gut, trying to place the feeling she got from Caitlyn’s brittleness. She was a bit of an enigma, she realised. Not what she was expecting exactly, from a Kiramman. She’d thought that Caitlyn might be a little uptight or egotistical, maybe a little of that syrupy faux charisma she’d seen in so many leaders of wealthy companies.
But Caitlyn wasn’t charismatic, she was defensive. Against her better judgment. Vi found herself feeling intrigued.
She leaned back slightly in her chair, watching Caitlyn with renewed attention. Prison had taught her how to read people whether she wanted to or not, and one thing Vi was exceptionally good at was recognising people’s insecurities.
Her demeanour made it painfully clear that she wasn’t comfortable with being challenged about her work.
“I think that’s exactly why they hired me,” Vi said after a moment. “The board could’ve suggested anyone with a solid portfolio, maybe twenty people I can name with more experience than me, and yet they did chose me.”
Caitlyn’s lips pressed together again, her shoulders stiffening just slightly, more reflex than decision. The irritation in her eyes didn’t feel aimed solely at Vi; it was something deeper, something closer to panic. Fear, maybe. Fear of change, if Vi had to take a guess.
Vi almost felt bad for her.
“I’m not saying things don’t need to change,” Caitlyn snapped. “I just don’t need someone telling me how to run my company.”
Vi lifted an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching.
“Well,” Vi said lightly, “you must be really good at what you do, then. If you’re not interested in accepting advice… why am I here?”
When Caitlyn didn’t reply, Vi leaned forward slightly, forearms resting against her thighs, her voice steady but soft “Look, I want to be clear about why I am here. I’m not trying to come in and turn everything upside down, and I’m definitely not pretending I know this company better than you do.”
Caitlyn’s shoulders eased a fraction, subtle enough to be missed. For a moment, she said nothing, studying her with an intensity that suggested she was searching for something hidden between the lines, be it ego or a type of threat, and when she finally spoke, her voice was much more subdued.
“That’s… reasonable,” she said.
Vi smiled faintly.
Caitlyn glanced back at her screen and then away again, as though unsure where her attention was supposed to land. “You should know,” she said, “I don’t make any decisions lightly.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. And I promise, I won’t do anything without running it by you” Vi said, with certainty. “You have my word.”
That earned Vi another brief flash of warmth, small and confusing and gone almost before she could decide whether she’d imagined it.
“Well it was lovely to meet you Ms Lanes, I look forward to you commencing your work at the company”
Vi noticed it wasn’t the usual ‘I look forward to working with you’ she normally heard after her corporate spiel, but it was formally polite all the same.
“It was good meeting you, Ms. Kiramman, I look forward to working with you,” Vi said, as she stood and put her hand out.
Caitlyn rose as well. “Likewise, Ms. Lanes.”
“Vi is fine.”
There was a brief hesitation, the smallest disruption in Caitlyn’s composure, before she nodded.
“Vi,” she repeated, as though testing the name “I’ll see you next week”
This was going to be very interesting.