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Chapter 9

Lev

I ’m getting in too deep and I know it.

I'm seated at a fancy French bistro called Le Loup, tucked away in a quiet corner of downtown Chicago. The place is quaint featuring old-world charm. It’s decorated with antique light fixtures and intimate tables for two, the walls lined with vintage posters featuring scenes of France from the early 1900s through present day.

I arrived early, needing some time to think away from the office and its constant demands.

As I sip my espresso and watch the hustle of the midday crowd from my secluded booth in the back, my thoughts drift to Dalia. The more time I spend with her, the deeper I find myself being drawn into something I know is dangerous, yet irresistibly compelling.

What if she’s the one? The one who might finally give me the family and love I've secretly yearned for all these years? Dalia, with her resilience and warmth, who’s never been loved properly herself, deserves so much more than what she’s had.

She deserves someone who will give her everything she wants and needs, and I find myself wanting to be that person for her. It's a risk, a huge one, given my life's complexities, but the thought of not exploring what could be with her feels like an even greater risk.

As I stir my coffee, I resolve to find a way to make this work, to give us both a chance at something real and lasting.

Through the glass front of the bistro, I watch as my guests arrive, stepping out of sleek, black cars that glide to a stop. Vladimir, Luk, Yuri, and Elena—my younger sister, a bona fide tech whiz and the head of the IT department—make their way inside.

Dalia steps out next, and my breath catches. She looks incredible, effortlessly sexy in a way that draws every eye to her.

I unconsciously lick my lips at the sight of her—memories of the other night in my office flooding back—how goddamn good she tasted, how fiercely I craved more. If all's going according to plan, she's been consumed with thoughts of nothing but me and how I made her feel.

As they enter the bistro, I hop up from my seat and weave my way through the bustling lunch crowd, approaching with a confident stride, and greeting with a warm, “Good to see all of you. Vladimir," I nod with respect. "Luk, Yuri," I add, clapping each on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

Turning to Elena, I give a slight smirk, "Always a pleasure to see our tech wizard in the flesh and not through a Zoom call."

Elena grins. "You’re all better looking from behind my computer," she retorts.

The hostess, recognizing the others, swiftly leads us back to the secluded booth where I had been seated, perfect for both privacy and conversation. As we settle into our seats, I catch Dalia's eye, giving her a knowing look that makes her cheeks flush a deep, delightful red against her rich olive skin.

"So, Elena, still terrorizing the IT department with your ruthless efficiency?" I tease, knowing full well she runs a tight ship.

She chuckles, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Only the lazy ones. Someone has to keep them on their toes. How about you, Yuri? Still trying to convince everyone to adopt your latest crypto investment strategies?"

Yuri rolls his eyes, a grin spreading across his face. "It's not my fault none of you understand the beauty of blockchain. One day, you'll thank me."

Luk chimes in, his voice dry, "Or blame you when it all crashes. Again."

"Hey, at least I'm not the one who tried to teach Lev how to use Twitter last Christmas. That was a disaster waiting to happen," Yuri shoots back, pointing at me with a laugh.

I raise my hands in surrender. "Guilty as charged.”

The table erupts in laughter.

Elena decides to shift gears. "Enough with the frivolities, let's talk shop.”

As the discussion prepares to become more serious, Vladimir, with a thoughtful glance, turns his attention to Dalia, who has been quietly observing the conversation.

"Can we trust her with this level of private business?" he asks me in a low voice, the rest of the group busy chatting amongst themselves.

I'm about to vouch for her myself, but Dalia beats me to it.

She speaks up, her voice confident and clear. "I was hired for my discretion and professionalism. And if it makes you feel any better, I had to sign an NDA on top of it."

She doesn't stop there; her gaze sweeps across the table as she continues. "Furthermore, as Lev's personal assistant, I'm fully integrated into the organization. I'm in the loop now, and while I understand and respect the need for caution, I don't appreciate having my competence and loyalty questioned."

I lean back, silently observing her, impressed by her fortitude and the ease with which she asserted herself at a table full of seasoned executives.

Vladimir, after a moment's pause, chuckles lightly, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Point made, and taken," he concedes. It's clear that Dalia's forthrightness has made an impression.

Elena laughs lightly, teasing, "Glad to see there’s another ballsy woman in the company. Welcome."

Dalia flashes a quick smile and shoots back, "Well, last I checked, I don’t have any balls. But I did inherit a strong will from my parents."

Luk leans in a bit. "Speaking of which, what’s your story, Dalia? Where are you from?"

Dalia relaxes into her chair. "I’m from Maple Grove, a little town in Rhode Island, not far from Providence. My mom’s a schoolteacher, loved by everyone. And my dad is a second-generation Egyptian-American and runs the general store there—your typical middle-class businessman."

Watching her, I'm struck by her poise and the way she articulates her background with such pride. Her confidence is incredibly appealing.

The contrast between her public persona and our private encounters is strikingly sexy. Dalia handles herself with a no-bullshit attitude that commands respect from everyone around her.

Yet in the privacy of the bedroom, she transforms into a yielding plaything, eager and pliant under my control. This duality fascinates me, and as much as I admire her assertive side, the thought of her sweet submission is enough to get the blood pumping to my cock.

I want more.

And I’ll have it.

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