Chapter 2Ivan
CHAPTER 2
IVAN
I settle back in my leather chair, watching Jenny through multiple camera feeds as she navigates the office floor. The new employees I’ve brought in give her respectful nods, maintaining professional distance while she orients herself to the changes. Her shoulders remain straight and her chin high, though I notice the subtle tension in her movements.
The security monitors provide multiple angles—views I’ve grown intimately familiar with over the past year. My private surveillance system extends far beyond this building, tracking Jenny’s daily routines, her apartment, and even her favorite bookstore/coffee shop. I tap the screen, switching between feeds that show her speaking with Deb, one of the new team leads I selected specifically for her collaborative management style.
There’s a tap on my door, and Natalia, the receptionist for the C-suite, opens it a moment later. “Mr. Markov, summary reports are ready for review.” She says that as Dmitri, my attorney, appears behind her.
“Leave them on my desk.” I don’t take my gaze off the monitor where Jenny discusses something with Deb, gesturing at a tablet between them. I gesture for Dmitri to enter but don’t look away from watching Jenny.
Memories surface of watching similar scenes play out, though with far different outcomes. The previous staff’s treatment of Jenny had been deplorable—whispered insults when they thought she couldn’t hear, deliberately excluding her from meetings, and taking credit for her work.
I recall one particularly infuriating incident three months ago. Through the surveillance feed, I’d watched Carol, the former office manager, berate Jenny in front of the entire accounting department over a minor filing error that wasn’t even Jenny’s mistake. Jenny had maintained her composure, apologizing professionally while Carol’s smug satisfaction radiated through the screen.
It had taken considerable restraint not to force the previous owner of this dump to finish the sale right then so I could fire Carol on the spot. Andrew Foxx was done dragging his heels, and I’d set in motion all my plans as soon as he finally signed the sales agreement yesterday.
“The new staff seems to be integrating well,” says Dmitri, glancing at the monitors.
“They were hand-selected for their competence and professionalism.” I switch to another angle showing Jenny heading toward her desk. “Unlike the previous group of incompetents.”
“Speaking of which, HR completed processing the severance packages for the terminated employees.”
“Good. Make sure they understand the non-disclosure agreements are ironclad.” My tone leaves no room for discussion. The former employees needed to disappear quietly, taking their toxic influence far from Jenny.
Through the cameras, I watch Jenny settle at her desk, arranging her workspace with precise movements. She opens her laptop, revealing the small succulent plant I’d noticed she keeps near her monitor—a touch of life in the sterile office environment.
“Shall I have accounting process the bonus payment we discussed?” asks Dmitri.
“Yes. Jenny’s earned every penny, dealing with those vipers for so long.” I tap into the feed from her desk camera, observing how she straightens her shoulders before diving into work. “She’s stronger than they ever realized.”
The door closes softly as Dmitri leaves. He probably thinks my attention to Jenny is odd, but I’m beyond caring what anyone, except her, thinks. I continue watching her, remembering countless surveillance hours witnessing her strength. She’d stayed late most nights, perfecting reports others would claim credit for. She’d come in early to help coworkers who only stabbed her in the back later.
Through it all, she’d maintained her dignity, fighting for two lousy promotions they’d done their best to deny her. If they’d paid any attention to her talent, she’d have been in that harridan Miranda’s spot as CEO instead of merely an executive assistant.
Firing everyone had been a calculated risk, but a necessary one. Jenny deserved better than to remain trapped in that toxic environment. Now I can shape things exactly as they should be, with her positioned where she belongs—at the center of my carefully constructed world.
I watch Jenny approach my office through the security feeds less than an hour later. Her steps are measured and purposeful. The morning light streaming through the windows catches the highlights in her chestnut hair. She pauses at Natalia’s desk, exchanging pleasantries before knocking on my door.
“Come in,” I call out, minimizing the surveillance feeds on my monitor.
She enters, tablet in hand. Her professional mask is firmly in place, but I see the questions burning in her dark eyes. “Mr. Markov, I have the departmental reorganization reports you requested via email.”
Less than an hour later. Good girl. “Excellent. Take a seat.” I gesture to the chair across from my desk.
She perches on the edge, keeping her spine straight. “I noticed several discrepancies that need addressing.”
“Such as?”
“The mass terminations, for one.” Her voice remains steady and professional, but her eyes are recriminatory. “Ninety-nine percent of our workforce was eliminated overnight, and you’ve only hired enough staff to replace seventy percent. That’s going to severely impact productivity.”
I settle back in my chair. “The terminated employees weren’t meeting company standards. The employees I brought on—and the one I kept—will more than compensate for the remaining twenty-nine percent difference..”
“All of them?” She taps her tablet screen. “Including Miranda Stevens, who increased quarterly profits by twenty-three percent during her tenure as CEO? Or James Caufed, whose marketing strategies brought in three major clients last month?”
“They weren’t contributing in ways that mattered.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “With all due respect, sir, that’s not a sufficient explanation for gutting entire departments and firing everyone.”
“Except you,” I say firmly, as a reminder of her new position. “I don’t need to explain my business decisions, Ms. Graham.”
“No, you don’t.” She straightens her shoulders. “However, as your personal assistant, I need to understand the reasoning behind major organizational changes to effectively do my job.”
I study her for a moment, admiring her courage while tamping down my irritation at her questioning. She must have some idea, but if she knew the full truth—how those same “successful” employees had systematically undermined and belittled her—she might understand. Miranda’s “successful” leadership had included taking credit for Jenny’s work while she and her assistant spread vicious rumors. James Caufed had deliberately excluded her from crucial meetings, then blamed her for missing information.
“The company is moving in a new direction,” I say instead. “The previous staff wasn’t aligned with that vision.”
“And what vision is that exactly?”
“One that values genuine talent and contribution over office politics and favoritism.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then stops herself. Smart girl. She knows when to push and when to retreat.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
“Yes, actually.” She pulls up another document. “The new organizational chart shows several positions reporting directly to me that traditionally report to department heads. That seems inefficient.”
“The structure was deliberately designed that way. You’ll be integral to operations moving forward.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for someone who was just an executive assistant last week.”
“You’ve proven yourself capable of far more than your previous position allowed.” I hold her gaze. “Unless you don’t feel up to the challenge?”
A flash of defiance crosses her face. “I can handle whatever you throw at me, Mr. Markov. I just prefer to understand what I’m getting into.”
“Good.” I smile slightly. “Then we understand each other.”
She stands, tablet clutched to her chest. “Will that be all?”
“For now.” I watch her walk to the door. “ Jenny?”
She turns back. “Yes?”
“The state of the company review meeting is at two. I expect you to lead the presentation.”
Her eyes widen slightly, but she recovers quickly. “Of course, Mr. Markov. I’ll be prepared.”
The door closes behind her, and I pull up the security feeds again. Through the cameras, I watch her return to her desk, her movements betraying a hint of agitation as she begins preparing for the meeting.
At the end of the day, I watch Jenny pack up her belongings to head home. She moves with practiced efficiency, tucking her laptop into her bag and straightening her desk with precise movements.
My phone buzzes. Dmitri’s name flashes on the screen.
“Marcus relayed the background checks are complete on the new hires,” he says. “All clear, as expected.”
“Good.” I tap through different camera angles, tracking Jenny’s progress toward the elevator. “Any word from our contacts about the former employees?”
“They’re staying quiet. The severance packages were...persuasive.”
“Make sure it stays that way.” I have plenty of evidence of wrongdoing by most of the former workers to ensure silence if money doesn’t, but I’d rather move past all of them and forget they ever existed. I hope they’ll be smart enough to allow that strategy. I wonder how long it will take them to realize they’ve all been blackballed?
The elevator doors slide open on my screen. Jenny steps inside, pressing the lobby button. Even through the grainy footage, I notice how she rolls her shoulders, releasing tension from a long day.
“Is there anything else, Mr. Markov?”
“No.” Through the exterior cameras, I watch Jenny step onto the sidewalk. “That will be all.”
I end the call, my attention fixed on the monitors. Jenny pauses at the crosswalk, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. A man walks too close behind her, and I tighten my fingers around the edge of my desk. She shifts away subtly, maintaining her personal space without drawing attention.
Smart girl. Always aware of her surroundings, even if she doesn’t realize I’ve been watching over her all this time. Protecting her from threats she never saw coming.
Like that night last year, when her ex-boyfriend tried to hurt her. Pure chance—or perhaps fate—led me to witness him running after her as I came home from a late dinner with clients, his drunken rage evident even from a distance.
I’d intervened before he could hurt her too much, though he’d punched her. Back then, I hadn’t yet realized how special she was, or I would have throttled him with my bare hands for daring to do that. Instead, I’d beaten him to submission, as I would have done for any woman under those circumstances.
It wasn’t until after he was subdued, and we waited for the police to arrive, that I’d started to see beyond her quiet exterior and recognized the beautiful soul underneath. She never really saw my face, but that night changed everything—first for me, and now for her, though she doesn’t know it yet.
Meeting her gave me my purpose, and my obsession. I spent most of the past year orchestrating this takeover, positioning myself to become an integral part of her world, especially after my discreet surveillance got the full picture of how awful her coworkers and bosses were to her.
The security feed shows Jenny boarding her usual bus home. I switch to the transit authority cameras I’d gained access to months ago, tracking her journey. She pulls out a book—one of those romance novels she favors—and loses herself in the pages.
My phone buzzes again. Natalia this time.
“The team finished setting up her new office,” she says. “Everything’s ready for tomorrow.”
“Including the special modifications?”
“Yes. All cameras and monitoring equipment are in place. She’ll never notice them.”
“Good work.” I end the call, returning my attention to Jenny’s progress home. She deserves so much more than she’s had. More than that toxic workplace that tried to crush her spirit. More than the men who failed to appreciate her strength and intelligence and took advantage of her gentle nature.
The bus arrives at her stop. Through the street cameras, I watch her walk the short distance to her building. I frown when I notice she’s walking hurriedly while looking over her shoulder. She looks down at her phone and scowls before stabbing a button harder than necessary and dropping it in her purse.
She pauses at the entrance to her building and looks around. There’s real fear in her eyes, which enrages me and has me poised to go to her. I hold back, knowing my security team has visuals, and they can be there in minutes in necessary. I don’t yet want her to know the full extent of my…interest, so I force myself to sit down but wonder what has her so scared.
That scumbag, Stephen Williams, is the most likely explanation. I curse and see red, sorry for a moment that I let the sniveling weasel live last year.