Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Riley
"No... I mean, why are you sitting here?" She set the coffee on the desk with obvious displeasure.
Like she was questioning why I was sitting in the design director's chair.
I picked up the decaf she'd brought me and took a slow sip, then smiled at her.
"Because as of today, this office is mine. Design Director of Bykov Group." I set the cup back down gently. "And you're my assistant."
The color drained from her face in an instant.
That once-smug expression froze like a block of cheese left in the freezer.
She never imagined that one day she'd be serving coffee to someone she'd mocked and looked down on.
"Director..." She bent quickly, her voice trembling. "I... before, I..."
"It's fine." I cut her off, my tone polite and flat. "What's past is past. I don't hold grudges."
Relief washed over her face, and she started to straighten—
"Although," I added casually, "next time you spill coffee on someone, maybe check who they are first."
Her face turned the color of liver, and she nodded frantically without daring to look up.
Only after I dismissed her did she scurry out with her empty tray.
The moment the door closed, I finally let out a long breath.
I hoped Miranda would learn not to judge people so quickly.
Though honestly, I could guess whose idea it was to make her my assistant. This deliciously petty move had one man's fingerprints all over it.
I looked up at the security camera in the corner of the ceiling.
That little black dot stared right back at me.
Not hard to imagine him in his top-floor office right now, legs crossed, coffee in hand, enjoying the show.
Sure enough. My phone buzzed.
"Missing me?"
I could picture his expression perfectly.
That cocky smirk playing at his lips...
I bit back a smile and fired back.
"Not even. Just checking if the company illegally surveils its employees."
His reply came instantly.
"Is that so? Because the way you were staring at that camera said something else."
Heat crept up my neck. Bastard! How did he know what I was thinking?
"And Ms. Quinn, staring at your boss during work hours is grounds for docking your bonus."
"Matvey Bykov, if you keep spying on me, I'm quitting."
"Could you really?" he shot back. "This office. These tools. That woman bringing you coffee."
Damn him. No, I couldn't.
I stared at his message, my lips betraying me with a smile.
I ducked my head quickly, hiding that stupid grin before the camera caught it. But before I could compose myself, my phone lit up again.
"You look better when you smile. Don't hide it."
I glared up at the camera. I should rip the damn thing out!
This man could scramble my heartbeat through a cold screen.
I flipped my phone face-down on the desk, forcing myself to focus.
My new desk was massive and expensive-looking. The surface was spotless, and in the most prominent spot sat a neat stack of sketches.
I recognized them. My design drafts from when I'd worked as Matvey's assistant. After Veronica kicked me back to my cubicle, I'd left in such a rush I'd abandoned everything. I'd assumed they'd been shredded.
But here they were. On my desk.
I picked them up, stunned. Every single sketch was pristine—not a wrinkle or bent corner.
I flipped through them slowly, my heart tightening like someone had wrapped gentle fingers around it.
He'd kept them. During those days when he'd had to treat me coldly, even kick me out of his office, he'd secretly preserved my work.
He'd treasured these like they mattered.
He'd never let me go. Not once.
Otherwise they wouldn't be here, perfect and waiting.
My eyes stung.
"You stubborn bastard," I muttered, warmth flooding my chest.
I pulled out a necklace design and picked up my pen, bending over it with focus.
This was what I loved. My dream.
No matter how many times life knocked me down, I'd never given it up.
The pen scratched across paper as lines and concepts that had lived only in my head took shape—clear, tangible, real.
I hadn't felt this way in so long.
So long I'd almost forgotten what that girl who'd come to New York chasing her design dreams even looked like.
Matvey had given me back the power to be her again.
Even though in a few months, I'd be a mother of two.
I lost track of time. When I finally straightened my aching back and stretched, morning had turned to noon outside the windows.
I'd just rolled my shoulders to start the next sketch when a knock came at the door.
"Come in." The words barely left my mouth before Miranda entered with a tray, moving carefully.
"Director Quinn," she set a steaming glass of milk beside me, her posture deferential. "This is... Mr. Bykov specifically instructed me to bring this to you. He said you always forget to drink water when you're sketching."
I wrapped my fingers around the warm glass, pausing.
The CEO specifically instructed.
I glanced at the camera in the corner. Had he been watching me the whole time?
Watching me work with my head down, forgetting to hydrate. Then sending warm milk to my desk in that clumsy, domineering way of his.
Just like before, in his office.
"Thank you," I told Miranda.
But my heart had already floated up to the man on the top floor.
He'd never changed. I should have realized sooner.
From that day on, my life felt like it had been tuned to a sickeningly sweet channel.
Every morning when I opened my office door, a massive bouquet waited on my desk. Hyacinths, roses, lilies of the valley... different every day, like he'd bought out every florist in the city.
"Matvey," I teased him one afternoon when he came to take me to lunch. "Did you corner the entire New York flower market? Keep this up, and other girls won't have any left for Valentine's Day."
"That's their boyfriends' problem." He raised an eyebrow, smoothing a strand of hair from my forehead. "What's it got to do with me?"
"You're impossible."
"Didn't you tell me to prove my love with actions?" He leaned close to my ear, his voice taking on that dangerous edge. "I've got to keep earning chances to show you."
His warm breath ghosted across my ear, sending shivers through me. I jerked my head away, only to crash into those grey-green eyes full of laughter.
For a moment, I felt dizzy. Was this really the cold, ruthless bratva pakhan who never took no for an answer? But it was him. Trying so hard to win my approval.
That afternoon, he didn't take me back to the office. Instead, he brought me somewhere I never expected.
A private tattoo studio.
"You're getting a tattoo?" I was surprised.
He already had extensive ink—I didn't think he'd add more.
"Yeah." He unbuttoned his shirt slowly. "Something important."
As each button came undone, his familiar chest came into view—scarred, tattooed, and devastatingly his.
My gaze locked on the still-healing wound.
The scar from when he'd taken that bullet for me. Vicious and deep, right beside his heart. Every time I saw it, pain lanced through my chest.
The tattoo artist had his equipment ready. But Matvey didn't lie down. Instead, he reached for my hand.
"Come here."
Dazed, I let him pull me close.
He pressed my palm against his chest, right beside that scar, directly over his heart. His heartbeat pulsed through my skin, steady and strong.
"I love you, Riley." His voice dropped low, his gaze burning into mine.
The tattoo artist's mask couldn't hide his amused smile. My spine tingled. I tried to pull away.
The needle descended.
I held my breath as it traced across his skin, stroke by stroke, carving a name into his flesh.
R-i-l-e-y. My name. He was putting my name on his heart, beside the scar he'd earned saving my life. Tears spilled over without warning.
"Matvey, you..." My voice cracked. I couldn't finish.
"Riley." His hand wiped the tears from my face, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "I used to say you were mine. That you belonged to me."
He pulled my hand back, pressing it against the fresh ink.
"From now on, I'm yours." Each word fell with weight, his grey-green eyes solemn. "I, Matvey Bykov, belong to you."
I couldn't hold back anymore. I collapsed against his shoulder.
"I love you too, Matvey." Tears streamed down my face.
His powerful arms wrapped around me, holding me so tight we seemed inseparable.
He had many tattoos, each one meaningful.
I understood. He was carving me into his life in the most permanent way he knew.
That entire afternoon, I couldn't shake the intensity of that moment.
In the car heading back, he wore his shirt with a thin protective film over the fresh tattoo beneath the fabric. I kept sneaking glances at the covered spot.
"Want a better look?" He caught me staring, that wicked smile curving his lips.
"No. I wasn't—"
"Tonight," he leaned in close, his breath hot against my burning ear, "I'll let you look all you want."
My face caught fire.
This man always knew exactly how to make my heart race out of control.
Those impossibly sweet days kept coming.
Half a month passed in a blink.
Evelyn's recovery was progressing beautifully—more color in her cheeks every day. The doctors said she'd be discharged soon.
I was getting ready to visit her after work when Matvey stopped me.
"I'm coming with you."
I blinked. "To see Evelyn?"
"Yeah." He took my coat and draped it over my shoulders naturally. "She's your sister. I should meet her properly."
The words hit me square in the chest. I knew what this meant.
In our kind of family—just the two of us against the world—Evelyn was my only blood, the most important person to me. Matvey offering to meet her was tantamount to seeking my family's approval.
I nodded, my heart hammering.
The whole drive over, my palms sweated. I'd told Evelyn about Matvey before. In her mind, he was probably already labeled a bastard.
Matvey seemed composed, but when we walked into the hospital room, I caught the tension in his jaw.
Was he... nervous?
"Evelyn," I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal. "I want you to meet—"
"Matvey Bykov."
Evelyn, propped against her pillows, spoke his full name before I could finish.
Both Matvey and I froze.
"You know him?" I asked, surprised.
"You talk about him constantly. I'd know him even if we'd never met." Evelyn shot me a look that made my face heat.
Her tone wasn't hostile. I relaxed slightly.
But then her gaze shifted to Matvey, turning ice-cold. "Besides, his face was all over the news with another woman not long ago."
The air went rigid. My heart jumped to my throat. I knew Evelyn wouldn't make this easy.
But Matvey showed no anger at the jab. He stepped forward, more serious than I'd ever seen him.
"Evelyn." He gave a slight nod, his voice low and controlled. "Everything Riley's suffered recently—that's on me. I won't dodge that or make excuses."
No explanations, no extra words. I was stunned. He was too proud to bow to anyone.
Evelyn didn't respond. She studied him from her hospital bed, eyes sharp despite her illness, like she was examining someone she didn't trust.
"Mr. Bykov," her voice was polite but frozen solid. "Let me ask you something. Do you know how Riley grew up?"
Matvey didn't interrupt. Just listened quietly.
"Our parents died young. I was barely a teenager. She was even younger." Evelyn's voice was steady. "To raise her, I took any job I could find. I'd go hungry so she could eat. When she spiked a fever at midnight, I carried her three blocks to the hospital."
Listening, my chest ached. I could see those two small figures again.
"I raised her myself. Protected her from the worst of it." Her eyes turned razor-sharp on Matvey. "So what did you do? When your ex-wife was tormenting her, where were you? When she found out she was pregnant and scared out of her mind, where were you?"
My stomach dropped. I hadn't expected Evelyn to lay it out so bluntly.
"You're some big shot. You've got unlimited money and women throwing themselves at you. Are you serious about her, or is she just something new and shiny? When you get bored, will you toss her and the babies aside for the next one?"
"Evelyn!" I grabbed her arm.
"Riley, don't." She didn't look at me, keeping her gaze locked on Matvey. "I want to hear his answer."
I looked at Matvey nervously, afraid nothing he said would satisfy her.
But he didn't dodge or get defensive.
"You're right." His eyes met Evelyn's straight on, deep as a bottomless well. "I've got money. I've had all kinds of women around me over the years."
"But that's exactly why I know better than anyone—Riley's different."
"I'll be honest with you, Evelyn." His voice dropped lower. "My world is dangerous. Riley was even kidnapped once. Got hurt. I failed to protect her. I own all of that."
I hadn't told Evelyn about the kidnapping. I ducked my head guiltily, ignoring her accusing look.
"But everyone who touched a hair on her head? They don't exist anymore." The calm in his voice was chilling.
I knew too well what lay beneath that calm.
"As for that woman—she was a business arrangement I couldn't avoid. I never touched her. I did all that to keep Riley out of it."
Evelyn's expression didn't soften. I sighed.
"Evelyn, when I was kidnapped recently, Matvey risked his life to save me." I hadn't wanted to worry her with the dangerous details. "A gun was pointed at me. He took the bullet. If it had been an inch over, he wouldn't be standing here."
Evelyn's breathing hitched. She went quiet for a long moment.
"Taking a bullet for her shows you'd die for her." Her voice was rough but still stubborn. "But taking one bullet and protecting her for a lifetime—those are two different things."
"I don't care if you're a CEO or some bratva pakhan." Every word rang clear. "From now on, if you make Riley shed one tear or suffer even a little, I'm taking her away. That's a promise."
I looked at Evelyn, moved and amazed. Moved that she still played the parent, still protected me. Amazed that she was actually accepting him.
"I promise." Matvey's voice was low and firm. "Ms. Quinn, I give you my word on the Bykov name. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for everything she's been through. She won't cry another tear."
Watching his serious profile, hearing him make that vow, I almost cried again.
That night, the three of us talked for hours in that small hospital room. Matvey patiently answered every tough question Evelyn threw at him.
We didn't leave until late.
Outside the hospital, the night air was cool.
"Riley." Once we were in the car, Matvey spoke suddenly. "I'm not taking you back to the apartment tonight."
I blinked. "Then... where?"
He lifted my hand and kissed it softly.
"I'm taking you home."