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Sydney's brow furrows, clearly torn between fear and the temptation of my offer. "And if I refuse?" she asks, a hint of defiance in her tone.
I smile, letting a predatory edge creep into my expression. "Let's just say it would be in your best interest not to test me on this." I step closer, invading her personal space. "Besides, I have a feeling you don't want to refuse. Do you?"
Her breath catches as I lean down, my face mere inches from hers. I can see the pulse racing in her throat, smell the sweet scent of her perfume mingled with the musk of her fear and... exhilaration?
"I... I don't know," she stammers, her eyes wide and conflicted.
I chuckle, the sound low and intimate. "Oh, I think you do. I think a part of you is thrilled by all this. The danger, the excitement." I trace a finger along her delicate jawline, feeling her shiver at my touch. "The possibilities."
As she processes my words, I find myself studying her once more. The way her chest rises and falls with quickened breaths, the nervous twist of her hands in her lap. Despite her fear, there's a quiet dignity in the set of her shoulders. It's compelling, but it also makes me feel slightly ashamed to be putting her through this.
Clearly, she’s not from my world. She’s an outsider, an innocent woman with no business brushing shoulders with the likes of men like me. And yet, she has, so I have no choice but to continue on with her, hoping for her sake that I don’t have to take even more drastic measures.
A knock at the door interrupts the moment. My assistant enters with the requested suitcase, setting it on my desk before departing silently.
I straighten, moving to open the case. The sight of neatly stacked bills seems to render Sydney speechless. Good. Let her see the power I wield, the resources at my disposal.
"Now," I say, turning back to her with a predatory smile. "Shall we discuss the terms of our arrangement?"
I can't afford to dwell on these distractions now. Not with this unexpected complication sitting before me, all flame-red hair and emerald eyes. And yet, I find myself inexplicably drawn to her. The swell of her breasts as she takes a shaky breath, the way she bites her lower lip in nervousness—it all calls to something primal within me.
Even as the weight of Miron's predicament presses down on me, I can't deny the electric current of attraction humming between us. It's dangerous, this pull I feel towards her. A complication I neither expected nor need.
But as I drink in the sight of her, vulnerable yet defiant, scared yet intrigued, I know one thing is certain, Sydney Reeves has just become a very interesting piece in a game she doesn't even know she's playing. And I find myself looking forward to teaching her the rules.
3
Sydney
Istare at the suitcase of cash on Avros's desk, my mind whirling so fast that it makes me sick. The stack of bills represents more money than I've ever seen in my life. It could pay off my grad school student loans, cover rent for months, maybe even fund that art gallery I've always dreamed of opening. For a moment, I'm tempted to grab it and run, consequences be damned.
But as I open my mouth to accept, I catch a flicker of something in Avros's steel-blue eyes. Disappointment? The emotion is gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual inscrutable mask. But it's enough to give me pause.
"That's... very generous," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm not sure I can?—"
"Of course," Avros interrupts smoothly, closing the suitcase with a decisive click. "A woman of your intelligence wouldn't be swayed by mere money, would she?"
I blink, thrown off balance by the unexpected compliment. "I... what?"
Avros's lips curl into a predatory smile that sends a shiver down my spine. "I have a better proposition for you,krasotka. One that will challenge that clever mind of yours."
He moves closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. His presence is overwhelming, a mix of expensive cologne and raw masculinity that makes my head spin.
"Become my personal assistant," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I'll double whatever pittance that catering company pays you. Triple it, even."
My eyes widen at the figure he names. It's more money than I could ever hope to make waiting tables or bartending. But the rational part of my brain, the part not mesmerized by Avros's proximity, screams a warning.
"And if I refuse?" I ask, hating the tremor in my voice.
Avros's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes harden. "Let's just say it would be in your best interest to accept, Sydney. I'm not a man accustomed to hearing the word no. There’s a reason for that.”
The implied threat sends my heart racing. This isn't really a choice at all, is it? I'm trapped, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.
"Why me?" I find myself asking, surprised by my own boldness. "I'm sure you could hire someone with actual experience, connections?—"
Avros's laugh cuts me off, deep and genuine. The sound catches us both off guard. "You're either very brave or very foolish to question me, catering girl. Perhaps both." He steps even closer,close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "But I find I like that about you."
I swallow hard, torn between the urge to step back and the magnetic pull of his presence. "I don't understand," I whisper.
