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YULIAN

No one has ever made me wait.

As CEO, I command respect. As pakhan, I inspire fear.

No one dares to cross me unless they’re very stupid or have a death wish. Meetings happen when I say so; executions take place when I arrive. No earlier, no later.

But Mia Winters has kept me for half an hour under her window.

And she isn’t answering her goddamn phone.

Considering the people we’re dealing with, it wouldn’t be strange if they already got to her. If the reason she went radio silent on me was because she was feeding the fish in the Hudson.

And yet, my instincts tell me that’s not the case.

Mia is alive and well.

She’s just ignoring me on purpose.

“ Blyat’. ” That woman. She pushes me like no one else. Worse, I doubt she even knows she’s doing it. She just loathes my ways so much, she’s willing to cross lines no man in their right mind would ever cross.

It makes me want to do unspeakable things to her. Remind her who’s really in charge between us.

Her ash brown hair in my fist. Her back, arched as I fuck her senseless. Her moans bouncing off the walls, her full breasts spilling from my fingers. Her tight, wet ? —

An angry knock on my window snaps me out of those thoughts. Relentless, impatient, rude.

I don’t even need to look to know it’s her.

“What the hell, Yulian?” she yells at me as soon as I roll the window down. “You’re three hours early.”

“I had time now.” My voice goes cold. I have no idea who this woman thinks she is to take up that tone with me, but she’s gonna have to rethink her priorities. “You should be grateful I made time at all. I’m a busy man.”

“Oh, I’m plenty grateful,” she snarks. “I’m so thrilled my son almost saw you.”

I glance around the empty street. “I don’t see him.”

“Because my friend dropped everything to come get him early!” she hisses. “You realize other people have lives, right? Real, actual lives.”

“And you’re free to get back to yours,” I answer. “I can go right now, if that’s what you wish. But I’ll take my million with me.”

She holds my gaze. I can see her weighing her options in her head, like she thinks she has any. Like she still hasn’t gotten the memo.

It’s a simple lesson.

When I want something, I get it.

Finally, she breaks. “Then at least come inside. I’m not doing this like it’s a drug deal.”

Come inside. I can almost picture those words in a whole different tone, her voice twisting around them in a sultry whisper. A plea. Like she’ll combust if I don’t do what we’re both dreaming of doing.

I chase those thoughts off and climb out of the car.

Mia walks briskly up the stairs. She’s wearing a pair of low rise jeans that look older than she is. Every step makes her ass bounce.

If I’m not careful, I’ll be collecting her contract rock-hard.

When we get to her door, she glares at the bodyguards I put there. “Here we are,” she mutters. “Home sweet compound. Make yourself comfortable.”

One glance around the place tells me it’s easier said than done.

The apartment isn’t dirty, per se, but it’s… colorful. Toys and puzzle pieces are strewn every which way, with no rhyme or reason. When I step inside, I almost put my foot right into the back of a toy truck.

“Careful with that,” she warns. “Social worker almost took a dive down the stairs, skating on it. Was real fun to watch, though.”

She doesn’t apologize for the mess. She doesn’t invite me to sit. She doesn’t offer me coffee, or water, or anything a good host might.

Instead, she clears the kitchen island from a pile of haphazard plushies with one arm and unlocks her knife drawer.

I raise an eyebrow. “If you’re going to make an attempt on my life, I’d recommend something that keeps you out of arms’ reach.”

“I’m not.” She pulls out the contract from the back of the drawer. “But don’t tempt me.”

More threats. It’s kind of adorable, really. She couldn’t harm a hair on my head and still, she pretends that it’s an option. That she has control.

“I take it you’ve signed it?”

“Not yet.” She hands me the contract. “I’ve taken the liberty of making a few suggestions.”

I take in the mess of red pen on it. Another act of insolence that would have left anyone else short of the hand that did it.

“Have you, now?”

She puts a hand on her hip and holds my gaze again. “Yes.”

It’s a cute bluff. We both know that she needs this deal. That she’s fucked ten ways from Sunday if it falls through.

But it doesn’t keep her from putting on a brave front.

That, at least, I can respect.

“Very well.” I take a seat across from her. “Let’s hear it.”

She taps on the first page. “First, no invasions to my home life. Those gorillas out there? I want them gone faster than you can say?—”

“No.”

Mia blinks. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I don’t believe I stuttered.” I lean over and hook that delicious, flustered blue gaze of hers. “I’m the boss. I decide what gets done, when, and how. And your bodyguards aren’t going anywhere.”

She grits her teeth. “This isn’t how negotiating works.”

“I never said I’d be negotiating with you. That was your assumption.”

Her face twists with displeasure, but I can tell she’s not done fighting. “Why would I even need bodyguards?” She throws up her arms. “I’m not becoming the fake girlfriend of Prince Henry. Unless your king-of-the-world complex really is that big.”

“My men stay.” I stare her down. “That’s final.”

She stares me down right back. “One,” she growls. “One man, downstairs. Or on the roof, or in the plumbing—I don’t care where he stays, so long as it isn’t in front of my apartment. My kid’s already going through a lot—he doesn’t need to worry about Bond villains at his door, too.”

My kid’s going through a lot. I file that tidbit of information away, remind myself to set Maksim on its trail.

Whatever’s going on in Mia’s life, I want to know it. A pawn as crucial as her is not allowed the luxury of privacy.

“That’s quite the characterization,” I remark.

“My kid’s quite the Bond fan.”

She doesn’t drop my gaze. I can see her swallowing with nerves, the subtle tremor of her fingers giving her away. But despite all that, she’s still pushing back.

I can’t say I dislike it. Infuriating or not, she’s got guts. And if this plan is going to work, I’m gonna need that attitude.

“Fine,” I say. “One guard, in his car. But I want a camera on the door. Live feed, 24/7.”

“Can you make it small?”

“I’m the CEO of StarTech. I can make anything.”

“Then that’s fine with me.”

She doesn’t look impressed with my declaration. Instead, she flips right to the next order of business. “Condition two—reasonable notice.”

“Sure,” I deadpan. “I’ll check with your assistant. Maybe you can send me your Calendly. Oh, and have we connected on LinkedIn yet?”

She makes a frustrated noise. “I have a job, Yulian. I’m a single mom. And on top of all that, sometimes, I actually have a life, too!”

“Congratulations. Where should I stick your gold star?”

“Stick it up your ass,” she retorts. “I want a week’s notice for every assignment. That’s non-negotiable.”

“I don’t think you understand?—”

“No, you don’t understand,” she interrupts. “I have a kid. I won’t risk leaving him unattended. Not—” She sucks in a breath, like she’s swallowing back a word she hadn’t meant to speak. “Not ever.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, from what I hear.”

She reels back as if slapped. I feel a slight, unfamiliar prick of guilt at her reaction.

“If you know that,” she says slowly, collecting herself just enough to speak rather than yell, “then you know why I need notice.”

Our staring contest resumes.

Goddamn stubborn woman. I haven’t got all day here—not by a long fucking shot.

“Fine,” I say. “Twenty-four hours.”

“That’s not—do you have any idea how hard it is to get a sitter on such short notice?!”

“Do you have any idea,” I murmur slowly, “how dangerous it is to keep pushing me?”

She blanches and falls silent. But not for long.

“Forty-eight hours,” she tries. “And you’ll send a sitter if I can’t find one.”

My instincts tell me not to give in. To get up and have Mia chase me down the stairs—to make her beg.

But a part of me doesn’t want that. Somehow, this little game is proving more interesting than I’d anticipated. And besides, like I said—I don’t have all day.

“Fine,” I concede.

“Good. Okay.” She lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“If that’s all—” I rise from the table, but she grabs my sleeve.

“Wait!”

I look down. Her fingers are shaking where they’re holding on to me, her blue eyes suddenly terrified.

“I…” She swallows thickly. “I want an advance. On the payment.”

It’s a bold request. Even I’m surprised by it.

“That’s not how this works,” I tell her.

“I know, but?—”

“But what?”

“I need to know you’re serious about this.” Her gaze isn’t leaving mine for a second. It looks panicked, urgent. “About us.”

Us. I savor the way she says it. Like we’re not just playing pretend. It makes me wonder what it would be like—not to be playing.

“Name your price, then.”

She hesitates. “F-fifty thousand.”

I almost want to laugh. Just that? After having the guts to demand this of me, she doesn’t even want half the total sum? Fifty measly thousand?

She needs it for something. Suspicion oozes at the back of my mind, dark and cloying. Something that wasn’t in the file.

“It’s quite the request.”

“I told you,” she mumbles, “I need to know you’re serious. I?—”

“Done.”

“—what?”

I enjoy watching her flounder. She wasn’t expecting to win this—that much is clear. And whatever that sum is about, I’ll find out. Maksim will make sure of it.

“I said I’ll give you your advance.” I glance downward. “Provided I can get my sleeve back.”

She blushes furiously. “O-of course! I—sorry, I just?—”

I fix my cuff. “My turn now.”

“I—sorry, what?”

“You’ve got your rules. I’ve got mine.” I turn fully towards her, towering over her as I speak. “A daily selfie with geolocation, to prove you’re still here.”

Mia blinks. It takes a moment for my odd request to sink in.

Then, once it does, she bristles. “And where else would I be?”