Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
KIRILL
No one stops me when I walk into the building.
The receptionist glances up, recognizes me, and immediately looks away, pretending she didn’t see me. Smart woman.
I don’t slow down as I step into the hallway. Benjamin’s voice carries through the conference room doors, confident and smug, but it won’t last.
I barrel in without knocking, and conversation dies instantly, all eyes around the long table zeroed on me. The color drains from Benjamin’s face so fast it’s almost impressive. He knows me well enough from prior business dealings to know I would not let what he did to Sloane go.
The men seated around the table glance between us, sensing something wrong without understanding what it is yet.
“Gentlemen,” he says, already rising from his chair, his voice tight. “Give us a moment.”
No one argues.
Chairs scrape. Papers are gathered too quickly. They file out without asking questions, because people like him don’t get scared for no reason.
The door closes, and silence settles around us like bricks.
Benjamin swallows. “Kirill, listen. I said I was sorry, okay? I—”
The distance between us disappears in three steps.
My hand closes around his collar, and I drive him backward, his body crashing into the glass conference table with a sound that ripples through the room.
The glass spiderwebs, then gives out completely as I shove him harder, shards exploding across the floor. He hits the ground with a grunt.
I crouch in front of him and take his face in my hand, fingers digging into his jaw until his mouth falls open and a strangled sound tears out of his throat. I force his head up and make him look at me instead of the blood pooling beneath him.
“You disrespected her. You spoke to her like she was something you could crush under your shoe.”
Crimson spills from the corner of his mouth as he shakes his head, panic already setting in. “I didn’t know she mattered to you.”
My fist snaps forward, knuckles connecting with his face hard enough to jolt his entire body. There’s a sound like something giving way and he screams, high and broken, hands flying up too late to protect himself.
I grab his shirt, bunching the fabric in my fist, and drag him closer until his breath hits my cheek in hot bursts.
“She matters,” I tell him. “And if you ever speak to her like that again, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I will kill you. Slowly. And I will send your family whatever is left of you in pieces.”
His eyes grow wild, drowning in fear.
The door suddenly flies open, his secretary rushing in. Her heels skid to a stop as she takes in the shattered glass, the blood across the floor, and Benjamin crumpled in my grip.
“Oh my God. Sir, should…should I call the police?”
I laugh while Benjamin thrashes, terror pushing him upright just enough to choke out, “No. Get out.”
She hesitates for half a second, then turns and bolts, slipping on the glass as she scrambles for the door. I release Benjamin and rise to my feet, wiping my bloody knuckles on the front of his suit before I walk out, like he’s nothing more than a rag left behind for my convenience.
By the time I reach the elevator, my phone is already in my hand, and I know exactly who I’m calling next.
Mark answers on the first ring. He may run the diner, but every dollar that place makes traces back to me.
“Hello?” The tension slides into his voice like he can hear my mood through the phone.
“Sloane is getting promoted. Effective immediately.”
Silence stretches on the line, long enough to be noticeable.
“Boss…” he says at last. “She doesn’t have management experience, and if I move her up this fast, it’s going to raise questions.”
“Did that sound like a negotiation?” The words stay calm, but there’s a warning under them. “You’re going to make her manager, and you will triple what she’s making now.”
Another pause, then a resigned exhale. “Okay. Whatever you want.”
“Good. I don’t pay you to explain problems to me. I pay you to fix them.”
“Yes, boss.”
“That’s the spirit, Mark. Now tell me, have you seen her sleeping in her car?”
“What? No,” he says, too quickly. “Why would I…no, I haven’t. Is there a problem?”
He gets paid not only to run things, but to keep an eye on Sloane and report back to me. If he hasn’t noticed, it means she’s either good at hiding it or he isn’t doing his job, neither of which are good for him.
“There might be, and I expect you to know everything that is going on with her.”
“What do you want me to do, spy on her?”
“Exactly.”
A slow breath carries through the receiver, resignation settling in. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Make sure she knows she can come to you if something is going on.”
I hate the thought of her needing anyone but me, but it will scare her if I’m too pushy, and I don’t want to do that.
“Of course.”
“If she says anything, you tell me immediately.”
“Understood.”
“There’s one more thing. I dropped off a package for her earlier. It’s wrapped. Make sure she gets it. I want her to know it’s from me.”
His voice shifts. “Okay. What is it?”
“That doesn’t concern you. It’s on your desk. Pink wrapping paper.”
Her favorite color.
He huffs like he’s smiling to himself. “Sure thing, boss.”
“What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” I can almost see him grinning.
“Don’t play me for an idiot.”
A soft chuckle leaks through anyway. “It’s just…you have really taken to this girl, even back in New York. What is it about her?”
I don’t know.
“Mark.” His name comes out like a warning. “Stop asking questions and start paying attention. Keep your eye on her like I told you. If you miss something that matters, you won’t get a second chance.”
I end the call, growing tired of hearing his voice. The phone stays in my palm while I wonder if her new salary will fix whatever is going on. I should have done it a long time ago.
I can’t stop thinking about the package I left her. About the moment she opens it and realizes it came from me.
More than that, I want her to understand that when she needs something, she comes to me. Always.