Two years later
–I'm sorry, Natasha, but the answer is "no," and it's final.
You just have to accept it.
Natasha's face was twisted with rage. She gripped the phone so tightly it felt like it might break between her fingers.
"Don't tell me what to do," he said, speaking through the speaker.
You said you were looking forward to receiving anything I wrote.
–But that was a long time ago. Things have changed. I can't buy your work anymore. Those are my orders.
Natasha took a deep breath and absorbed yet another rejection.
–But you're the editor. You have to be the one to give the orders. Who else?
"The magazine owner tells us what to do, and I can't do anything. You're out, Natasha. Goodbye."
The editor hung up the phone, leaving her speechless.
"Another one?" a young woman behind her asked. "This is the sixth time she's said no to you after years and years of buying your work."
Natasha turned to her friend Helen, who was also her roommate.
"I can't believe it. It's like there's a spider in the center of a whole tangle of cobwebs, controlling everything, telling them to throw me out."

–But it must be like that. You should know. The spider's name is Elroy Jenson.
It was true. Jenson owned the media empire that had supported her for a number of years. But he'd taken a fancy to her and pursued her relentlessly, ignoring her efforts to keep him at bay. Finally, one day, he'd gone too far and forced her to slap him. One of the employees had seen them, and the story had spread like wildfire.
"Everyone knows you made him look like an idiot," Helen told her sympathetically. "So now he's your number one enemy. It's a shame you have such a temper, Natasha. You had every right to be upset, but... well..."
"But I should have thought twice before slapping him. I should have stayed calm and thought about the future. Ah!"
–Yes. I know it sounds ironic, but look at the price you paid.
–Yes –Natasha breathed out.
His success as a freelance journalist had been dazzling. Magazines and newspapers sought out his daring, insightful articles.
But it was all over.
–But how is it possible for a single man to have so much power?
"Maybe you should go away for a while," Helen suggested. "Until Jenson forgets about you."
–That would be difficult...
"No, no. The agency got me a job in Italy, doing advertising. That means I have to go away for a while. I was about to call them and tell them to find someone else, but... why don't you go?"
–But I can't... It's a crazy idea.
–Sometimes madness is the best. And maybe it's just what you need right now.
–But I don't speak Italian.

–You don't have to. It's an international thing, to promote the city worldwide.
"It's not Venice, is it?" Natasha asked, suddenly tense.
–No, don't worry. I know you wouldn't want to go to Venice. It's Verona, the city of Romeo and Juliet. Part of the story is real, and tourists love seeing Juliet leaning out of a balcony and seeing different scenes from the play recreated in reality. A group of businessmen who own luxury hotels have designed a specific advertising plan for the place. Well, I know you're not exactly a romantic, but...