Chapter 10 Zatanna
ZATANNA
I toss and turn for hours, covers tangled around my legs, every muscle aching with a tension I can’t unravel. My mind won’t let go—of his hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that could shatter his control.
I hear the door open. I blink and he’s there: Aleksei, bare-chested and impossibly real, the city lights sliding over his skin in silver stripes. He stands at the foot of my bed, gaze dark, mouth set in that cruel, beautiful line that makes my whole body tighten with want.
I sit up, heart hammering in my chest, the sheet slipping down over my bare skin. “What are you doing here?” My voice comes out soft, shaky, equal parts fear and hope.
He doesn’t answer at first—just crosses the room in two steps, all heat and muscle and hunger. The bed dips as he kneels, hands sliding up my calves, my thighs, pressing my knees apart until I’m open for him, exposed to the hungry sweep of his eyes.
His mouth finds mine, crushing, desperate, stealing my breath. He tastes like danger and want, like secrets I should never have learned. His hand tangles in my hair as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding against mine until I’m dizzy, whimpering into his mouth.
He pulls back just enough to breathe me in, his lips ghosting along my jaw, down my neck, his voice low and ragged. “I couldn’t stay away from you. I’ve tried, Zatanna. God, I’ve tried.”
His palm finds my breast, thumb rolling over my nipple until it peaks, aching, then trails lower—down my belly, over my hip, between my legs. He slips his fingers beneath my panties, finds me soaked and throbbing for him.
“I keep seeing you, everywhere,” he murmurs, voice harsh with need. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? How fucking badly I want you?”
I can’t speak—I can barely breathe. I arch into his hand, trembling, helpless. “Aleksei…”
He growls my name, pressing his mouth to my ear, hot and filthy. “I’m going to make you come on my fingers first. Then I’m going to fuck you, slow and deep, until you can’t remember anything but my name.”
He slides a finger inside me, slow, teasing, as his lips devour my throat, his other hand fisted in my hair, holding me exactly where he wants me. I’m lost, falling, unraveling for him. Every part of me burns with desperation, aching for more.
I gasp, body arching, fingers clutching the sheets, only to be jolted awake by the shrill beep of my alarm.
For a moment, I lie there, breathless, heart still racing, the ache between my legs as real as the sunlight bleeding in through the curtains. The echo of his hands, his mouth, the filthy things he whispered—they cling to me, hot and humiliating and so, so good.
It takes a few seconds before I realize I’m alone in my bed, covers tangled, my skin flushed and damp with sweat. Reality crashes back: my tiny apartment, my rumpled clothes, and my phone blinking with the time.
I’m late.
“Shit,” I tumble out of bed, tripping over last night’s jeans and scrambling to the bathroom.
Toothbrush, quick rinse, deodorant, and hair twisted into something barely presentable.
My hands are still shaking as I pull on a skirt and blouse, the memory of the dream making my thighs clench as I rush out the door.
The city rushes past in a blur as I run for the subway, one arm flailing for my bag, the other clutching my phone, as I pray I’m not too late. I can’t afford another mistake
I rush through the revolving doors, cheeks burning, hair barely tamed, shoes pinching my feet from the sprint. The lobby is already buzzing, and the elevators seem to crawl, every floor a fresh spike of anxiety.
When I finally spill onto my floor, Lina nearly collides with me by the copier, her eyes huge with alarm. “Zee! Where were you? You’re so late—Mr. Vasiliev has been asking for you since you didn’t clock in. Are you okay?”
I gulp, my thoughts immediately ricocheting back to yesterday—Aleksei’s hands, his voice, the way he looked at me as I ran from his office, wrecked and exposed.
“I… I overslept,” I mumble, not daring to meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lina. I know it’s not like me. Did he… did he say what he wanted?”
Lina bites her lip, glancing nervously toward the corner office. “No, but he seemed… tense. More than usual. Honestly, you should go see him as soon as you drop your stuff. He doesn’t like to wait.”
My stomach knots. What am I even doing here? After yesterday, after seeing him like that—after what happened, is it even appropriate for me to be here? Shouldn’t I just walk out, save whatever dignity I have left?
But the answer is simple, and humiliating: I need this job. Desperate doesn’t even begin to cover it. Rent, food, the thin edge between survival and failure… All of it depends on me keeping my head down and pushing through.
So, I nod, clutch my bag tighter, and force my legs to move toward his office.
Lina grabs my elbow before I can bolt for my desk, lowering her voice to a worried whisper. “Zee, seriously, you should go apologize to him. Mr. Vasiliev doesn’t like people being late, and—well, he really doesn’t like being kept waiting.”
I swallow hard, glancing toward the closed door of his office. Just the thought of facing him again—after everything—makes my stomach twist with nerves and shame.
“I will,” I say quickly, hugging my bag to my chest. “I’ll do it… later. I just need a minute to, you know, settle in. Maybe I can say I had a doctor’s appointment, or my train broke down…”
Lina stares at me, eyebrows up, lips parted in confusion. “You’re going to lie to the boss? Zee, that’s… kind of risky. He always knows when someone’s lying.”
I force a shaky smile, though my heart is pounding. “I’ll figure it out. I just… I need a second, okay?”
She lets go, clearly bewildered. “Well… okay. But if I were you, I’d just rip the Band-Aid off.”
As I fumble for another excuse, voices rise from the corner office, louder than usual.
Lina and I turn in unison, caught by the sudden pulse of commotion.
A moment later, the door swings open and two men stride out with hurried, tense steps.
The first is the scrawny attorney I vaguely remember from my first day, looking pale and rattled, clutching his briefcase like a lifeline.
But it’s the second man who holds my attention.
He’s older, taller, his posture commanding even in his obvious irritation.
His features echo Aleksei’s, the same strong jaw and cold blue eyes, though age has carved them deeper.
For a heartbeat, I wonder if he’s an uncle, or maybe even Aleksei’s father.
There’s an energy in his presence that draws a boundary in the air, the kind that tells everyone in the office to mind their own business.
Aleksei himself appears in the doorway, face unreadable. His gaze sweeps the room, landing briefly on me. I feel frozen, unable to look away from the force of his attention. He looks like he’s holding back a storm, as if something big just happened and he’s barely containing it.
As the older man passes, he barely glances at Lina and me.
Still, I can’t help but whisper, “Do you know who that is?” My words are almost lost in the hum of the office.
Lina shakes her head, frowning. “No idea. Never seen him before in my life. Maybe a big client or a… relative? I honestly have no clue.”
I watch Aleksei retreat into his office, the door closing quietly behind him. My heart is still racing from the dream, from the nerves, and now from the sense that something is shifting around me in ways I can’t see.
The rest of the morning crawls by with a nervous thrum in my veins. I barely manage to answer emails, my mind spinning with what happened yesterday, the men storming from Aleksei’s office, and the knowledge that sooner or later, I’ll have to face him.
When my phone finally buzzes with a message from his secretary—Mr. Vasiliev will see you now—my stomach plunges. His secretary gives me a “you’re going to get fired” smirk as I walk past her. I wipe my clammy hands on my skirt and take a steadying breath before pushing open the heavy door.
He sits behind his massive desk, framed by the skyline, suit jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up. He doesn’t look up immediately, scribbling something on a file. When he finally meets my gaze, his expression is as unreadable as ever.
“Sit,” he says, nodding toward the chair in front of his desk.
I do, perching on the edge, trying to keep my breathing quiet. My mind is a tangle of anxiety and—God, help me—anticipation. For a wild second, I imagine he’ll ask for something indecent. After everything, maybe that’s the real reason I’m here.
He glances up at me, voice low, “You’re here because there’s something… unique I need from you.”
My breath stutters. I hear the words, and every nightmare I’ve ever had about office power games and men with too much money slams into me at once.
I stare at him, horrified, before I can stop myself blurting, “I’m not that kind of assistant.
Listen, I don’t know what kind of impression I gave you yesterday but—”
There’s a beat of silence. Aleksei’s eyebrows rise, and for a split second something almost like a smile ghosts across his mouth. “Noted,” he says, and there’s a glint in his eye that suggests he’s genuinely amused.
He sits, steepling his fingers, the mask slipping back over his features. “No. This is strictly business.”
I feel the heat crawl up my neck, mortified. “Sorry, I just—never mind. I just want to forget about yesterday, let’s not bring it up, like ever.”
He doesn’t dwell on it. His expression shifts, and suddenly I feel the ground shift beneath me, even before he speaks.
“The real reason I hired you,” he says, voice even, “is that I need you to help me find a bride.”
My brain stutters, every thought scattering. “I’m sorry. What?”
He leans back, watching me, waiting for the realization to sink in.
A bride. He wants me to help him find a wife.
My brain stutters, every thought scattering. “I’m sorry. What?”
“You heard me. I need you to find me a bride. Discreetly. Someone suitable. I’ll provide a list of requirements. The rest… I trust to your judgment.”
I stare at him, searching his face for a punchline, for any hint that he’s joking. He leans back, watching me, waiting for the realization to sink in.
My mind reels. Yesterday, I stumbled on him in the most private, filthy way possible—watched him lose control to the sound of my own voice. And now he sits here, composed, acting like nothing happened, giving me a task so insane I wonder if I’ve finally cracked under the city’s pressure.
I can’t help it; I blurt, “Are you seriously asking me to find you a bride? After… after yesterday?”
He raises an eyebrow, that hint of a smile back on his lips. “I thought you didn’t want to dwell on what happened yesterday, Zatanna.”
His gaze flickers down my body, a knowing look that sends sparks right to my core.
I open my mouth, lost between outrage and desire, but he cuts me off, his voice low and intent. “For all your troubles, I’m going to give you a serious raise. Triple your current salary.”
I blink, stunned. “I just started.”
“And I’m the CEO,” he says smoothly, rising from his chair, and coming around the desk, every inch of him radiating command. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of me, so close I can feel the heat coming off his skin. “I can do anything I want.”
His confidence radiates, dark and magnetic. He’s close now, so close I can see the play of light over his cheekbones, the muscle ticking in his jaw. “Is that going to be a problem?”
The way he says it—rough, edged with a challenge—makes my pulse skip. It would be so easy to get lost in this, to forget all common sense. Yesterday, I saw what he wanted. Today, he’s daring me to step into the fire with him.
I swallow, nerves sparking into something hotter, hungrier. “No,” I whisper. “No problem at all.”
But in my head, a single thought blazes.
God help me.
And the nerves have my mouth moving without a filter. “Who was that man in your office earlier?”
The words hang between us, the wrong question at the wrong time. Aleksei’s jaw tightens, his fist curling on the desk. For a moment, I think he’s going to snap. Instead, he releases a breath, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“That’s none of your business,” he says, voice clipped. But then, almost as if he catches himself, his tone softens. “Let’s keep our focus on your job, Zatanna.”
He gives me clear instructions—criteria, the kind of woman he’s supposedly looking for, the level of discretion required. I nod, scrambling to keep up, my mind racing.
“Should I be taking notes?” I ask, reaching for my phone.
His mouth quirks. “That’s up to you. I can have a database sent over—profiles of the most eligible women in New York. Backgrounds, connections, reputations. Everything you’ll need.”
I glance up, trying to make sense of it all. “Honestly, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding a wife.”
He arches an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “And why’s that?”
The answer slips out before I can rein it in. “Look at you.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I want to swallow the words back, mortified, but it’s too late. What happened to your filter, Zee? I scold myself.
To my surprise, he laughs—a real, deep laugh, rough around the edges. The sound rolls through me, warming everything it touches.
He leans in, his presence filling the space between us. “That’s sweet. But in my world, reputation is everything. And mine makes me… less than eligible.”
My curiosity flares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His eyes hold mine, steady and unblinking. For a moment, it feels like he might actually tell me. The air is thick, crackling with something dark and dangerous—something I want to know, even if I shouldn’t.
He only says, voice low, “You’ll find out soon enough.”