Chapter 1

Mindy

"Ms. Williams, have you heard my question?" Maron Korolev asks, interrupting my train of thought. His expression is stern. 

I swallow hard and turn my attention back to him. "Of course, Mr. Korolev."

Maron Korolev is a cold, strategic perfectionist. That's basically a fancy way to say he's a jerk and a total control freak. He's also stinking rich and drop-dead sexy. He has a sharp jawline covered in stubble -my weakness-, perfectly slicked dark hair with the perfect amount of silver in it, and piercing blue eyes that seem to see straight through me.

He also just happens to be my boss, and as such, he will always remain a forbidden fantasy. Even though he has the power to make me feel a little woozy at times.

But Maron Korolev is more than just my boss. He is also the owner and CEO of Global Media, the international media empire where I work as his chief accountant. And as the CEO of an international media conglomerate, the man is impeccably dressed every day in designer suits and shoes that cost more than my monthly rent. His hair is always styled effortlessly, with a slight wave as if he just woke up from an afternoon nap. And if that wasn’t hot enough, his perfectly strong jawline always has the perfect amount of stubble, like he popped out of the woodwork that way. Oh, and have I mentioned the captivating depth of his eyes?

The point is, the man is insanely, ridiculously hot. And yet, he is a smooth, entitled jerk. A royal asshole. I have no interest in him whatsoever. So, why is my body reacting as if he’s about to pin me against the wall and have his way with me? And why does that idea flood me with an intense rush of desire? It is a mystery that remains unsolved.

Right now, he has every reason to make that face he’s making. I'm barely paying attention to what he's saying; it's Friday and I'm completely drained. He's been in the office all week, which luckily doesn't happen very often. But when it does, he's a beast - getting his team of assistants to send emails left and right, joining Zoom meetings, barking orders to his remote teams, and the list goes on. And I have to be part of all that madness, as Maron Korolev is crazy about finances.

He's not just crazy about finances - he's like a wizard with supernatural skills to point out mistakes and sense misplaced decimal points from three rooms away. He probably dreams in pie charts and investment portfolios.

Needless to say, working for Global Media and living under Maron Korolev's constant observation is no walk in the park. The days start early and end late, with little to no time for breaks. It is a demanding and fast-paced environment. He doesn't believe in saying thank you or at the very least, please. The only reason for me to stay at this workplace under a royal bosshole like Maron Korolev is that I have to. I have to, because the money is extremely good.

And that's important for two reasons. First, my mother has cancer and the costs are astronomical. The kind of cancer she has is treatable, and with the right medication, she can live a normal life and recover. I don’t mind the costs. I love my mom and she deserves the best care. Except, I’m the only one who takes care of her. Alexis, my sister, could help - but she doesn't. She's struggling with her own demons, battling her painkiller addiction. So, I can only count on myself. And that means putting up with Maron Korolev’s tyranny every day.

I'm also saving up to start a family. Due to complications from an illness I had as a child, I can’t conceive naturally. I’m scheduled for IVF treatment, starting next Monday. Who knows how long it will take to get me pregnant? What I do know is that I definitely don’t want my boss finding out about it.

That’s a problem for another day, though. All I want right now is to finish this meeting, go home, and take some naughty photos of myself, so that I can spice up my sex life with my fiancé, Maurice. And then, hopefully, make passionate love to him while we can. Except that’s easier said than done. First, we need to wake up the spark that’s long gone. That’s if it was ever there.

Don’t be sarcastic, Mindy.

Maurice is a good guy.

As for my boss, Maron Korolev, he has a habit of popping up at my office without any warning. He clearly doesn’t understand the concept of knocking on someone's door before entering. “Miss Williams,” he’ll say, “I need a detailed Excel sheet about the expenses for the opening ceremony of our new product.” Or something along those lines. He could easily email me his requests, but he seems to prefer the old-school way; making them in person. And every time he appears, I can’t help but picture him standing there with no clothes, saying “Miss Williams, I need you to get naked, so we can have passionate sex on your desk right here, right now.”

For God’s sake, stop swooning over him, Mindy!

You only keep having these thoughts because you’re horny all the freaking time.

It’s true. I always had a very high libido. And unfortunately, Maurice was never able to keep up with it. Yes, he’s a great guy, but our sex life is mediocre at best. Okay, I admit: mediocre is a strong word. Our sex life is terrible. It’s like being trapped in a sex desert with no orgasm in sight.

But I’m trying to change that. Since I’ve been sending surprise nudes of myself to Maurice, things got a little better. Every relationship takes work and I’m willing to do my part.

My mind wanders to the pictures I'm going to send to my fiancé, Maurice Korolev.

Yep, that’s right. As strange as it may be, my jerk boss and my fiancé have the exact same last name. But they are not related.

New York has a huge Russian community, and believe it or not, Korolev is a pretty common Russian surname. Almost as common as “Williams” or “Johnson” are, here in the US. Maron and Maurice are from different backgrounds with very different upbringings. They are also the complete opposites of each other.

Maron Korolev is like a walking dream on the outside - sexy, powerful, making all the ladies swoon, and a controlling jerk on the inside. But there’s also something about him that gives me chills. An underlying darkness that screams danger. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but one thing is for sure: Maron Korolev is definitely not someone you want to mess with.

Maurice, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of Maron. Good-looking in a normal way, handsome, even. He’s a typical family guy and a great listener - basically every girl's best friend. The type you want to marry. We all need a Maurice in our lives, but trust me, nobody needs a Maron.

I most certainly don't.

“Ms. Williams, I asked you a question,” my boss repeats sternly. 

I nearly jump. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Korolev. What was your question again?”

He gives me a disapproving look. “The latest numbers from our social media campaigns,” he reminds me, clearly irritated. 

“Oh, yes,” I stutter. “I apologize, Mr. Korolev, I was just taking some notes.” I quickly glance down at my notepad. There isn’t a single note on it. I clear my throat and begin speaking, somehow finding the words without any notes to refer to. All those years of experience I have in digital marketing comes to my rescue.

“Yes. The latest numbers from our social media ads. Yes. We’re on it. We’ll be digging into the nuts and bolts of our campaigns on Monday, as soon as we get the latest data from the Social Media Team. Then, we’ll start identifying grey areas, and analyzing what could be done better. I’m sure we can juice up those numbers by the end of the month. I’ll also dive into the latest numbers of our subscription plans and see if we can tweak our packages and bring in some extra money without annoying our users. We got this.”

"How exactly do you plan to do that without annoying users?” he asks, his words feeling more like an interrogation than a genuine question. My confidence falters for a moment, but I quickly push through it.

“I have a few strategies in mind that I believe will be effective,” I reply coolly, meeting his gaze with determination. “I am more than confident that my team and I can make a significant impact on our profits using these methods. I hope you find my answer satisfactory, Mr. Korolev.”

Maron Korolev nods, appearing slightly impressed. I’m impressed with my improvising skills as well. “Alright,” he says, “I am interested to see how you execute these plans, Ms. Williams. Make it happen.”

“Understood, Mr. Korolev,” I say quickly. “Are there any other pressing matters you wish to discuss?” I ask, hoping the answer is no. The workload this week had been overwhelming, and all I want is to go home, take a hot shower, and finally start working on the nudes that are supposed to spice up my sex life with Maurice. The last thing I care about right now is another pressing financial matter Maron Korolev might wish to discuss.

He closes his laptop and leans back on the chair. “Yes, there is,” he says, his face serious.

Really?

I can’t believe this man!

“I’m listening, Mr. Korolev.”

No, I'm not.

He shakes his head. “But there is no point in continuing this conversation, Ms. Williams. You look too tired and disinterested, and obviously can’t pay attention.” He’s scrutinizing my face. “In fact, you've been looking tired all the time recently, and I’m not happy about that. As the chief accountant of this company, you work with money. If you make a mistake, it will cost the company a lot.”

There he is. As I mentioned before, Maron Korolev is absolutely obsessed with money. If I happened to pass out in front of him, he wouldn’t even bat an eye. His only concern would be the potential loss of profits.

What I really want to tell him is: “I’m not tired, Mr. Korolev. I’m practically a walking zombie with jello in my head where my brain should be. I arrived at the office early this morning and haven't had two consecutive moments to myself since. I only used the restroom once, and even during those brief moments, you called me about the data in the third row of Excel sheet two hundred and forty-six. All I consumed today was four donuts and two buckets of coffee. Without my quad espressos, I would probably have collapsed by now. The only thing that keeps me alive is that it’s almost 6:00 PM, and I can finally see the end of this hellish workday approaching.”

But instead, I say, “I’m sorry, Mr. Korolev. I promise I’ll do my best to recharge my batteries this weekend so I can focus on my tasks better next week.” I could kick myself in the ass for saying that. “Have we finished?”

He nods curtly. “Yes. But I need to make something clear before you go, Ms. Williams: if your focus is on anything other than Global Media, you will leave me with no other option but to find a new chief accountant. I hope I don’t have to remind you that this is a high-responsibility position. You mess up once - you're gone. Do you understand?”

Are you freaking serious?

I am not some insignificant worm beneath your feet, Mr. Korolev!

Nor am I a mop to be used for cleaning your filthy floors.

It may come as a surprise to you but I'm actually a person.

A human being.

So, pull your arrogant head out of your self-righteous ass and show me the respect I deserve, for once!

My throat tightens as I respond. “Yes, I understand.”

He nods again. “Good. You are free to go now, Ms. Williams.” There is slight disdain on his face, saying “I can see you’re not happy to work eighty-five hours a week and I don't like that.”

Asshole.

And the fact that every time I see Maron Korolev, my heart starts to race and a familiar sensation starts to tingle down below, doesn’t make things easier.