Chapter 3
NADIR
I’ve trusted Leon with my life up until now.
She can’t be here.
But she is.
She would look unrecognizable in this frightening getup if it wasn’t for the familiar pair of eyes blinking back at me in distress. The black makeup was a good move. It makes them look bluer than the Miami ocean—the destination we were both heading to when I had her alone in the bathroom.
Six years later, she’s still prone to falling. First, it was because of the heat. What is it this time around? She can’t blame it on the temperature. I use only the best air-conditioning suppliers to keep this place feeling immaculate.
Jess’s cheeks are red again, like they were in my suite.
“Please take a seat,” I tell her, taking my position behind my desk. The Boston skyline as a backdrop should remind her of my power. Only those who have earned it get to sit on the highest floor.
The flustered look on her face suggests she remembers me more than she’d like to.
“We have to stop meeting in the air,” Jess says with a weak chuckle. A poor attempt at a joke to lessen the tension.
I intend to keep the tension high.
“So,” I begin, “it appears you are the new hire my managing director was telling me about.” I tap on my laptop—face recognition, and navigate over to my inbox. Leon never tells me about who he hires because I trust him enough to find me the right ones.
Jess being an associate here may complicate some things, but challenge is what makes us stronger.
I scroll my eyes down her choice of clothes: a black blazer, black shirt—modest, unlike the tank top she wore on the flight. This time, every inch of her is covered. The black pants she’s wearing are Kookai, I believe. The Australian board member I took to bed last week had on the same pair.
“You clean up well, Jessy.” My eyes steal another glance at the modest black shirt. A hunger appears in my pants. I know what she keeps hidden behind that high neckline, and between the thighs she now has crossed.
They were spread wide, dripping with both of our climaxes. I was the first to penetrate her. She tried to keep that detail to herself. But I don’t miss a thing…
Except this, apparently.
“It’s Jess,” she reminds me, a slight wobble to her jaw. “And just for the record, I didn’t know that you were the CEO. I wouldn’t have applied otherwise,” she mumbles, eyes falling to the floor.
“Is that so?” I sniff a laugh. “Well, Miss Rawcliffe, you’re here now, prepared for work, so we may as well make a start to this meeting.” I sit back in the chair, the leather creaking. “It’s good to have you on board.”
I fear the double meaning hits us both.
I know she’s dessert the second she comes into my line of sight.
Untamed blonde hair.
Flustered.
Even more so when she sees me.
She looks at me, registers…
And moves on.
Like I’m just another face in her day.
Nobody looks away from me that easily.
“We’ll start with a few general things to note,” I begin, unsheathing a file from one of my filing cabinets. I leave the NDA for now and rest my hands over it instead. “First things first—I don’t care when you leave or if you have to take a sick day, mental health, whatever. I care about results.”
Jess nods along, her jaw getting tighter by the second.
“If something looks wrong, anything suspicious, I need you to report it to myself or your line manager, who will be introduced to you shortly.” I unclasp my hands and bring them into a steeple.
“I trust that Leon has already told you the basics, but in the interests of you doing your job correctly, I’ll relay them to you.
We are the most well-respected firm in Massachusetts.
If you wake up one morning not feeling it, don’t come in.
Best not to show your face and let our competitors know you’re miserable.
Secondly”—I point my steepled fingers toward her—“the hours are long and the pressure is high. According to Leon, you perform well under pressure and don’t surrender easily. ”
Jess’s face turns, a flicker of realization crossing her eyes. She darts her gaze to the floor, cheeks returning to their normal beet-red hue. Surrendering came to her quite naturally before. She knows that as well as I do.
She can surrender as many times as it pleases her in the bedroom, as long as she stands her ground when it comes to work.
“Yes,” she finally musters up the courage to say. “That’s right.”
“Good. Lastly, I want you to know that everything you see and hear stays inside of the company.”
Her blush disappears from her face, replaced by two little lines across her brow as another thought takes precedence. “What do you mean?”
“We’re the biggest private firm in the state, Miss Rawcliffe,” I remind her curtly.
“Which means people are always trying to dig their noses into our business.” Talk is cheap and isn’t as final as signatures, so I remove the document from my file and slide it her way.
“Before we proceed further, please sign this nondisclosure.”
Her eyes watch me with scrutiny.
I produce a pen, but she’s still busy doing a read of my face.
“Miss Rawcliffe—”
“Why would I need to sign a nondisclosure?”
“Everyone in the company signs an NDA before they start working for me.” I gesture over to the filing cabinet where twenty-six folders stand, ordered by year. “Due to the nature of the work, it’s required, preventing things such as insider trading—”
“Of course,” she says, reaching for the pen.
I narrow my eyes. “Next time, please wait for me to finish speaking before you reply.”
“Yes, of course. Sorry.” Her jaw is tight as she signs and dates on the dotted line, sliding the contract back to me.
A rushed signature. She wants to get this over with as quickly as possible.
All the more reason for me to stretch out this meeting.
“Tell me, Miss Rawcliffe—what made you apply to work here?”
Her jaw tenses, her eyes razor sharp. She wants to look away, but the little minx knows better than to break eye contact and show signs of nervousness.
Despite the bold look, not much has changed. Her chest is still heaving the same, erratic way it was in my suite all those years ago. Her moans echo through my ears in memory.
The sound of a virgin coming on a cock for the first time.
“Finance has always interested me.”
Funny, she never mentioned that before.
“And,” she continues, clearly biting back bitterness for this next bit: “It’s like you said, Sterling Row Partners is the best in the city—”
“In the state.”
“Yes.” She furls her lip and returns her gaze to the floor—where she feels most comfortable looking.
She sinks a tooth into her lip. The gap between the two front teeth is still there, which pleases me. Her facial features look somewhat recognizable with the makeup, but I prefer her natural. Her lips had a wonderful, pinkish tint to them that only deepened after a few kisses.
Her face is inviting. So is that pretty little virgin cunt between her legs, most likely wet right now as we speak.
Six years ago, when I took her to the bathroom, she was already far too wet for her to have been aroused just from the kiss. She was soaked long before I discarded the lace.
Shadows hang deep in her eyes when they finally find the courage to look at me again.
Her scent lingers heavily in the atmosphere.
I know it well, even six years later: that heavy jasmine scent—one unique to her.
I’d have licked it clean from her thighs if my cock hadn’t been so desperate to get inside.
Her thick breath, her parted lips—they’re all signs telling me she still feels the same as she did before.
I stand from my desk. A little fun is needed around here.
Between work and trying to keep our competitors—the Kozhikov Bratva—at bay, all I’ve been doing is sleeping and getting my cock taken care of occasionally when I’m in the mood for company.
I could use some entertainment that isn’t a a fuck and go.
“I have places to be, Miss Rawcliffe. Please report to Leon—you’ll find him waiting to collect you outside.” I walk past her. The heels give her good sex appeal, but she’s still miles beneath me. “Welcome to the company, Jessy. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”
I wait for the assistant to finish pouring us all coffee before starting the meeting. She always makes sure to pour mine last.
Last, but certainly not least.
“Thank you, Miss Rachel. You may leave us now.”
“Sure thing,” she says, her eyes doing the usual and lingering a while before she takes her leave.
The door eventually shuts, and I prepare my notes.
“She’s counting on you bending her over the kitchenette at some point,” jokes one of my enforcers.
“Yes, no doubt,” I say, stretching out my legs. She’ll be waiting forever. Especially now, seeing as I have a new work conquest.
Jess surrendering a second time won’t take much, when she gave in so easily on that flight six years ago. One thing to know about women is that they change their clothes, fluff up their style, but still fall all the same when in the presence of power.
And back then, I was nowhere near as powerful as I am today.
“Let’s begin.” I crane my head, making sure the door is locked and that most importantly, the assistant is gone from the window. “Sergey.” I snap my fingers. “Pull the toggle for the blinds.”
“Blyat, it must be an even more important meeting than usual if you don’t want anyone looking.”
I recline in my seat at the head of the table. There are ten of us in here today, some of the others out on patrol. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but our forces are facing a slight weakness.”
Leon, sitting beside me, slams his coffee on the conference table, turning red.
“A slight weakness, Leon. Nothing major.” I steeple my hands and point them down the table.
“As we all know, the Kozhikov Bratva are stopping at nothing to take as much as they can from us because they don’t have anything good of their own.
It’s hard for me to have empathy and feel sorry for their success, or lack thereof, when they shot two of our men yesterday. ”
“Nadir Medvedev with empathy?” Sergey snorts. “I’m more likely to see the sun turn blue.”
“Focus,” Leon snaps, slamming his palm down on the table. “Did you not hear the part where two of our men were shot?”
“No need to cry a river,” I say. “The men were two extortionists from the working unit—barely men, come to think of it. Alas, the kills are becoming more frequent.”
“What do you propose we do? Go to war?” Sergey asks.
“Let’s not get too excited now,” I reply. “The Kozhikovs like to torture and kill slowly, so we are not rushed for time.”
“But?” Leon says.
“I don’t currently have an heir to replace me if something were to happen to me.”
Leon looks at me pointedly, as if self-assigning.
“I don’t care how much some of you kiss my ass. Nobody in this room will be becoming my heir.”
Sergey breaks the silence with a laugh. Always a joker this one. “How will you go about getting an heir, pakhan?”
“I haven’t thought of those logistics quite yet. But the child will need to be my blood.”
“If a child is what you need, then let me take care of it. All you need to do is point me in the direction of the woman you’d—”
“Enough,” I bark, reclaiming the room with silence.
Some of these men are sick beyond their years. Besides, women don’t interest me outside of the bedroom. Knowing a woman for nine months is a fucking lot of commitment when I only know how to handle the opposite gender in short bursts. Sticking around any longer than a day is a recipe for disaster.
“Time, gentlemen,” I remind them all. “Remember—we are not pushed for it. Needing an heir is something to note for the time being, but by my guess, we have another two years to go before I need to start worrying about that.”
“How did you work that one out?” Leon says, critical as ever.
“The Kozhikovs only recently came into being. Before their new boss—Taro, started leading the syndicate three years ago, they were not worth the time of day. And although Taro is strategic, looking to make moves on us, he is doing it very slowly. As long as we’re aware, we have nothing to be concerned about. ”
An heir will be something to keep in mind for the future.
But I’ve made it this far in life and have not fallen short. Not even once.
The Medvedev syndicate will continue to reign just fine. People try to kill me all the time and fail. This new threat is really nothing new at all.