Page 24 of Konstantin

She tries hard not to cry, tears gathering in her lower lashes before she walks out of the office with stiff, robotic steps.

I stare at him, mouth slightly open. “You’re insane.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “So, will you take the job?”

“You fired her just like that?” I’m still in shock. “She probably worked for you for years?—”

“She was replaceable,” he says simply, as if that explains everything. “I don’t want someone replaceable, Tessa. I want you.”

I swallow hard. “I…I don’t…”

“I’d pay you well,” he continues, as if I hadn’t spoken. “More than you could ever imagine. But there are conditions.”

Of course there are.

“You’re mine. Understand?” His voice dips, becoming something darker, heavier.

His? What the hell does that mean?

As though he heard my question, he says, “You’ll do what I say. When I say it. Exactly how I want it.”

I should say no. I should stand up and walk out of this office and never look back.

But my brother’s face flashes in my mind. Trapped. Helpless. Innocent.

He’s gonna die in prison if I don’t get him out, and I’m running out of options. Being this close to Konstantin gives me the best shot at finding what I need to save my brother.

Konstantin’s dark eyes gleam with satisfaction. He knows he has me where he wants me. But I have him too; he just doesn’t know it yet.

“Do we have a deal?” He waits for me to answer.

I force my chin up. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp. I will send a car to pick you up.”

Shit. I don’t want this man anywhere near my place, even if the place I’m renting is a front for Tessa.

“No, thanks. I can get there myself.”

I won’t let him think he can make all the decisions.

His lips twitch in the faintest of smirks, as though he’s expecting this. “No need to argue, Tessa. It’s not up for discussion. You’ll do as I say.”

A laugh’s trapped in my lungs. I’m not willing to let him push me around, but I feel the pressure of his words, like invisible chains around my wrists.

“Is that so?” I snap back. “I didn’t realize you ran a dictatorship. I thought this was a job, not a prison sentence.”

His smile is slow, deliberate, and almost predatory. “Obeying isn’t hard. I expect you to follow orders without question. You’ll find it’s easier that way.”

The command in his tone makes my teeth gnaw. He thinks he can control me. Thinks that just because he has power, I’ll be a puppet. Maybe he’s used to people bowing down to him, but I’m not like that.

“So, what? You want me to just jump into the back of your car like some trained dog?”

The silence between us thickens. He doesn’t flinch. His gaze holds steady—cold and unyielding, like a stone wall.

“Yes.” Amusement flanks his features, as if he’s not only expecting this, but enjoying it.

That one word hangs in the air, and there’s no mistaking the intent behind it. This isn’t a request. It’s an order.