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The cold in my chest returns, deeper and more aching than before. “You don’t get to choose which parts you inherit, Kirill. You take it all, or you walk away with nothing.”
“Then fuck it. Maybe I’ll walk.”
“If you’d ever even consider that, you have no business running Lazarev Global.” I fix my cuffs and school my expression back into stone. “And you certainly have no business anywhere near Rae Everett.” I step closer. “So stay away from her. Stop trying to play hero. You cannot save her from me. Fucking hell, boy—you can’t even save her from yourself.”
Kir’s mouth opens to fire back something scathing. I can see the words forming, the venom gathering.
I don’t give him the chance.
“You want to make yourself useful?” I interrupt. “Prove your worth? Fine. I have a job for you.”
He hesitates. Suspicion passes across his face.
“There’s a journalist named Jillian Pierce,” I continue. “I want you to kill her.”
Kir is rendered speechless.
I meet his eyes. “This is what inheritance looks like, son. This is the price of the empire you claim to despise.”
He stares at me. The mark on his cheek is deepening to purple.
“You want me to prove I’m not like you,” he summarizes slowly, dumbfounded. “By becomingexactlylike you.”
“I want you to prove you understand what’s at stake.” I knock him aside and go toward the door. “The Pierce woman is a problem. Problems get solved. If you can’t handle that… then you’re no son of mine.”
With that, I leave him behind me and go back inside.
27
RAE
GOOGLE TRENDS - November 24, 2025
Trending Searches (NYC):
1. "rae everett" ↑ 2,847%
2. "lazarev auction" ↑ 1,923%
3. "who is rae everett" ↑ 1,647%
4. "5 million dollar girl" ↑ 1,234%
5. "lukas lazarev girlfriend" ↑ 1,089%
The whispers start Monday morning and they don’t stop.
I hear them from the second I enter the building. The bright-eyed and bushy-tailed girl who replaced me in front of Kir’s office on the fortieth floor—Madison, I think her name was? Mallory? Marcy?—is coming in off the street at the same time as me. She’s holding the door politely until she realizes who I am. When she does, her jaw drops and her face goes pale. She scurries away without so much as a hello, but not before I catch the look on her face.
Pity. Curiosity. A healthy dose of fear.
By Tuesday, people I’ve never met are finding excuses to stare at me on my way to and from work. They don’t say anything. They just gape. Like I’m an exhibit at a zoo.
Here, we have the rare and exotic Office Auction Girl. Note the cheap blouse and the thousand-yard stare. For five million dollars, you can get one yourself!
I’m more grateful than ever that my new job with Lukas has me isolated on the fiftieth floor all by myself. On top of that, I’m even more alone than usual, because Lukas doesn’t come to work a single day this week.
But it doesn’t keep me completely safe. I still have to get there and back.
