Chapter 10
NADIR
Jess is still processing the information. I imagine it will take her a few days.
She shoots up in a huff, straightens out her skirt, and makes a beeline for the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell her.
“Whatever,” she says. Her ass bounces in the tight skirt as she yanks open the door and stomps out.
I keep staring at the door even though she’s gone, feeling a smile crawl onto my face. Now we’re talking. This is the Jessy I remember. Bad attitude. Rough around the edges. Hot in every fucking possible way, and she doesn’t even know it.
My cock grows hard under the desk but I ignore the burn.
Until I make it home that evening.
I sit on the couch in silence and pull out my cock, massaging it through my warm hands, pretending her fierce mouth is around my length instead.
She has a big enough one to take all of me in, right to the back of her throat, where she’ll gag, salivate, and lick every last drop of cum from my tip before begging me to fuck her.
Talk about heaven in a fucking bottle. That’s Jessy. My pretty little angel who let me be her first six years ago.
She better not be involved with another man. If I hear she’s married or even seeing someone casually, I’ll slit the bastard’s throat right in front of her eyes.
She belongs to me. Jessy is my employee. I can do whatever I want with her.
Up until today, she was looking at me like she wanted a good fuck. I was getting tempted to invite her into my office for a different reason. I want her on all fours, breasts spilling everywhere as I fuck her from behind. She loved it before and she would definitely love it now.
This afternoon at work was the first time she looked at me with something other than infatuation. She was direct with her words, direct with her eye contact. She looked at me with pure malice in her eyes. Nobody has ever cared that much about my Bratva. It must feel personal to her somehow.
Still, I will not have her open her mouth to the wrong person and ruin things for me, not when I’ve spent the majority of my life building an empire.
I was eighteen years old when I first started. The empire I created will live on for generations, long after my death. I will pass it on to my heir, when I eventually acquire one of those, and my name will be honored forever.
Jess is a little minx and teases my cock without even meaning to. Blyat, just picturing her face has me hard again. But I must not let myself get distracted. I’ve come too far to let a young woman destroy me.
I wake up bright and early the next morning, and make coffee to clear my head. My mind still foggy from last night. I’m plagued by thoughts of Jess and all the things I want to do to her.
I collapse on the couch and sip coffee mindlessly.
It’s still dark out. I’m normally awake before most people.
There are only a few lights on in the apartment block next to mine—same ones as always.
I don’t know anything about the people living in them but I know the apartments belong to people like me.
Rich and successful people wake up before everyone else to get a head start to the day.
Time is limited and it must be spent wisely. These people know this.
I live at the top of Boston, both for business and pleasure. The penthouse I’m currently living in has been mine for two years, but I’ll use it as an investment property when I’m bored of the view, and try out another area of Boston to live in.
I finish my coffee standing, absorbing the view one last time before I head to work and do the same thing.
It’s important to acknowledge your roots, to appreciate the times when the view wasn’t so great.
It makes these views feel even more amazing.
I sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears to get where I am today.
I use this time every morning to congratulate my younger self for everything, when he came from nothing and had to start all over in a new country.
I had a dream, and I didn’t stop until that dream was a reality.
I exit my apartment and jump straight into the car that’s waiting outside for me. My chauffeur drives me to work, and I step out of the vehicle when we arrive. My building dazzles in the sunrise, the glass edges tipped gold.
I enter the lobby, greet a few familiar faces, and ride the elevator up to the canteen to grab a coffee.
I have a lot of work to carry out today, and people to check in with. After our meeting yesterday with the Kozhikovs, I’m half expecting to log into my computer and find multiple new notifications alerting me that another extortionist has been killed. Or many.
Taro and his minions are predictable. After failing to merge our companies yesterday, I know he will be ordering his men to increase forces. They can only do that at the moment by targeting our young extortionists, killing them to get a rise out of us.
The only person who’s getting a rise out of me at the moment is Jess Rawcliffe. I highly doubt she’ll be showing her face today.
I grab my coffee and make a start back to the elevator.
That’s when I see Jess a few yards ahead, striding into the canteen toward the breakfast spread.
Her high heels clack on the marble flooring.
She looks straight ahead, gaze fixated on the pancakes that she’ll eat with a generous helping of maple syrup.
Up until this morning, I thought I had the woman figured out.
I stop and watch her, and take a sip of coffee to alleviate the pain in my cock. Her breasts bounce under her shirt with every step she takes.
I’d completely lose it if I saw her wearing that red tank top again.
What the fuck is she doing here today? I was expecting her not to show her face after our conversation yesterday. Her being here isn’t doing me any favors. I should be in my office by now, seeing what mischief the Kozhikovs are causing today.
Instead I’m wasting precious time by staring at her breasts as she reaches the serving platters. She drizzles maple syrup over her pancakes, and my cock is erect again, imagining she’s squirting maple syrup over her breasts instead.
“Care to lick it off for me?”
God, I’d get my mouth around those pert nipples and never be able to let go.
I hear the clearing of a throat and find her staring right at me, pancakes in one hand, steaming cup of coffee in the other.
“Mr. Medvedev?”
“Good morning, Miss Rawcliffe.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Our conversation yesterday.” Good save. “I must say, I’m surprised to see your face today.”
“Oh?” She arches an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
I fold my arms over my chest, surveying her face, her eyes in particular.
They come alive like my building in the sun.
They’re a magnificent shade of blue, the best I’ve ever seen.
Her lips are the same—just as bold. I’m unable to tear my eyes away.
She’s wearing deep red lipstick, not like she needs it.
Her lips have a natural cherry hue, which I prefer, identical to the color of her—
“Are you feeling okay this morning, Nadir?”
“Please address me as Mr. Medvedev,” I tell her. Our relationship is strictly professional. We are not on a first-name basis, and we never will be. “Eat your pancakes, and do it quickly. I need you to get to work.”
“Sure thing.” She disappears from my side, heels clacking on the floor as she locates a table.
I’m watching her sit when I see other men glance in her direction.
Their lingering eyes are toying with my patience.
I hired these men to do a job for me, not to stare at my newest hire.
They look at her like she’s prey, and I curl my hand into fist to restrain myself from marching over there and knocking over their coffee.
I could punch the bastards in the face, all of them. But workplace drama always has a way of finding its way into the board’s ears. And I cannot be fucked to hire lawyers and deal with charges for public assault.
I head back to my office before I lose all self-control, and collapse behind my desk, wiping a hand over the back of my neck. I’m sweating through my shirt and it’s not even nine a.m. yet.
The reason she came back here this morning, makeup on, attitude high, is because she needs this job a hundred times more than she’s letting on. She has a lot to lose, and those same reasons are why she’s going against her morals and continuing to show up.