Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Matvey
She bit her soft lip, sketching a ring. An asymmetrical setting cradled a teardrop stone, the lines rough but flowing...
She'd never had formal training, that much was clear. But her designs had something—a spark.
Then again, what the fuck was I even doing?
The last time I'd pulled up surveillance was when the cops said we had a thief in the building. Today, I was watching it just to see Riley.
"Everything's been running smooth at the docks, but there's something that doesn't sit right with me." Anton's voice droned on beside me.
My eyes stayed locked on the screen.
Riley had this pull when she worked. Head down, a few gold strands falling loose by her ear, thick lashes half-hiding those impossibly large eyes.
I knew what those eyes could do. And not just in bed.
I didn't sleep with the same woman twice. But Riley was different. She made me want to lose myself in that soft body again and again. That's why I'd offered the two-month arrangement. Two months would kill any obsession. Riley wouldn't be an exception.
After all, since the divorce from Veronica, I'd had zero interest in women beyond sex.
"Victor's shipment is ready to load." Anton's tone sharpened. "But that old fox is definitely running a game."
I tore my gaze from the monitor. My phone buzzed with photos of the cargo packaging.
"What's the situation?" I scrolled through the images. "Packaging's sloppy as hell. Can't these idiots be more careful?"
I'd known what I was getting into with Victor. His crew always operated like this—amateur hour.
"It's worse than that." Anton pointed at the weight readings, his expression grim. "Total weight is less than half what the contract says."
Less than half? That wasn't a margin of error.
"Victor's people claim they moved a batch recently, so the total's down."
Bullshit. Moving blood diamonds in New York? Either he'd lost his mind, or he was gunning for a ten-year prison stint.
"Did you open the boxes?"
"We did." Anton shook his head. "The count and weight don't match up."
"Check again. Take the crates apart." I tapped my phone screen. "Those boxes probably have false bottoms. Classic smuggling trick."
If this bastard thought he could pull something under my nose, he had a death wish.
"Understood, Pakhan." Anton saluted and left.
He was solid when it mattered. If only he could keep his mouth shut the rest of the time.
The office went quiet. Victor's nauseating grin flashed through my mind. Looking back, he'd probably been scheming even then.
"How did you produce this garbage? If you can't cut it, get the hell out!"
A sudden shout from the monitor cut through my thoughts. I looked at the screen and saw a woman towering over Riley, hurling a stack of files at her.
The surveillance was crystal clear. I could zoom in enough to read the documents. Quarterly reports, proofreading... none of it intern work.
A vein pulsed at my temple. Fuck, these people were always causing problems. I rubbed my face hard, barely stopping myself from punching through the monitor. The company's fresh blood was being destroyed by these parasites.
What was this woman's name again? From her uniform, she had to be a supervisor. So how the hell did she get into my company and thrive?
I grabbed my phone to call HR. Get that supervisor fired. But halfway through dialing, I stopped.
"Shit."
HR wouldn't finish until afternoon. She needed to go now. Right now.
I strode out of my office and took the elevator to the twelfth floor where the design department was.
"Riley, look at what you've done!" The parasite was still screaming. "Can't do your job right, walking around dressed like a sausage—do you know what people say about you behind your back?"
If we weren't in the office, if she weren't a woman, her tongue would already be dog food.
"Kate, that's not even my job. You always dump your work on me. I don't think the boss would tolerate your behavior."
Kate. Good.
I approached. The employees who'd been spectating instantly dropped their heads.
The office is filled with nothing but continuous abuse. I stood behind Kate, but she clearly hadn't noticed me.
Riley saw me, though. Shock flashed through her wet eyes, and she forgot to speak. I put a finger to my lips. She blinked.
"Say something! Weren't you so tough just now? If I don't teach you a lesson today, you bitch, you'll get fired someday for pissing off the boss." Kate raised her hand, ready to slap Riley across the face.
"Who said she's getting fired?" I grabbed her wrist mid-air and flung it aside.
"Mr. Bykov!" She whipped around, the viciousness draining into fear. "What are you doing in the design department?"
"Tell me—what did Riley do?" I picked up a file from the side of the desk. "Why did you lay your hands on her?"
Kate's mouth twitched. Cold sweat had already formed on her forehead. So she got afraid, too. Unfortunately for her, it was too late.
"She... she couldn't complete the task I assigned her as an intern, and she—"
Her voice shrank as she spoke.
"And she talked back to you, didn't she?" I looked down at her.
"Yes—no!" She shook her head frantically, words spilling out of order. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Bykov. I overreacted... I was only thinking about her development in the company."
Always a convenient excuse.
"Development?" I let out a short, humorless laugh. "I don't remember my interns—especially in design—being assigned your reports."
"It's just... to train her. She just started—" she muttered, head lowered.
"Are you questioning my policies? Or are you questioning me?" I threw the file down at her feet. "Do you think a petty supervisor like you has that authority?"
My patience was gone. I wasn't going to hear another word of her excuses.
She flinched, her head almost hanging to the floor.
"And remember this—before you humiliate someone else, take a look at yourself and see if you're even qualified to do it."
"I understand, Mr. Bykov." She nodded quickly, crouching down to gather the scattered documents. "I'll be more careful in the future."
She even reached for the file I'd thrown at Riley, as if trying to clean up every trace of her mistake. Very adaptable. But that wasn't the kind of "talent" my company needed.
"The future?" I said flatly. "There is no future."
Her hands froze mid-motion.
"You're fired."
That single sentence was enough to make her regret everything she'd done today.
"Mr. Bykov! You can't—"
"My company does not tolerate employees who bully their subordinates." I enunciated each word clearly. "Get out. Now."
"I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Please don't fire me!" She was almost on her knees.
She looked as if the person who had been bullying others moments ago had never existed. But I knew better. There was no real remorse there.
"You should be apologizing to her," I said, glancing at Riley.
She immediately turned to Riley, her expression collapsing into forced humility.
"I'm really sorry, Riley. I shouldn't have said those things. We actually get along well, don't we? Tell Mr. Bykov we're fine—there's no conflict between us..."
"No. We're not close," Riley said flatly. "And everything between us started because you chose to pick a fight."
Good. Sharp-tongued little thing. I knew she wasn't soft.
"You'd better start clearing your desk, or everything on it will be treated as abandoned property."
Kate's shoulders sagged. She didn't dare speak again and headed toward her office.
My employees knew my temper. I didn't make empty threats. She'd pay for her actions.
And her behavior confirmed something—she wasn't the only one pulling this shit. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so brazen about abusing Riley. I wouldn't allow this toxic culture in my company.
"Listen up. This company isn't a beauty pageant. I only care about your skills." I addressed the employees cowering at their desks. "And don't bring your clique mentality here, or you'll be out with her."
Bykov Group never lacked talent. I'd gotten over three hundred résumés this morning. People were lining up to work here.
The moment I finished, they buried their faces in their computers—whether actually working or just hiding from me, I couldn't tell.
"A new supervisor will be here soon," I said.
Finally, my gaze settled on Riley.
"Don't take what she said to heart." My voice softened. "You just need to adjust your clothing size."
"Thank you for the reassurance... Mr. Bykov." She dabbed at her eyes lightly.
The smile she forced was too strained, the moisture in her eyes still there. She shouldn't cry over this. She should only cry in my bed—begging, breaking apart.
I took a deep breath. A proper boss didn't stand in front of his employees thinking about fucking one of them.
I leaned down, mouth near her ear.
"Crybaby." I fought the urge to pull her into me. "You know what? That damn good body of yours is wasted in this ill-fitting uniform."
"Sir..." Her voice trembled.
That "Sir" was more seductive than any dirty talk. I almost bent her over her desk right there.
Fuck, what spell had I fallen under?
Listen, this was just novelty. Once I'd had my fill of her, everything would go back to normal.