Chapter 2 - Yefim

Since I moved to Boston it's been nonstop work.

I am determined to prove to the world that the Dubrovs have a right to be here. We are where we belong now, and if we work hard enough, we will make such a big name for ourselves we will never be doubted again.

My cousins have lived in Boston much longer than we have, and they have already created a strong name for their family. It made starting a business here easier. We all work together and support each other—a strong family and a strong force to reckon with.

Living in Russia was hard. It shaped me and molded me into who I am today.

My older brother, Leon, left home a few years after my parents were murdered. But even in those years that he was still around, he had been a different person—dark, cold, empty and numb. He wasn't himself. He didn't pay attention to anything around him, only to his growing and all-consuming need for revenge.

Leon came to Boston for revenge. I came for my family.

My brothers and my sister. We all deserve more than the shitty hand we were dealt in Russia. We never deserved to lose our parents like that, or the hardships that followed.

So, I'm not here for power or money. I'm here to make a point. I'm here to let the world know that we are better than our past—and we can have anything we want in our future.

***

I glance at my watch late on Friday, still sitting at my office desk, and sigh.

Building a great future means many hours of dedication to work.

I've been making late night calls to our clients in other time zones. Something I have to do often. But now it's almost half past eight, and the office is quiet. I'm starting to get hungry, but I still have a few more calls to make.

I lean back in my chair and look out into the ground floor office space below me. It's usually dark by this time, but I can see one of my employees must have left their light on at their desk.

I need a walk anyway, so I'll go turn it off.

When I get back, I'll finish up the last of the calls and then head home.

I stroll out of my office and down the stainless-steel staircase, each step I take echoing in the vast quiet space. With my hands in my pockets, I walk towards the single light burning from the desk ahead.

When I get closer, I feel myself becoming annoyed.

There is a girl sleeping at her desk. What the fuck is this?

I stare at her, wanting to wake her up but unsure how to go about doing that. She is resting her head on her arms, folded over a binder of paperwork, and the laptop in front of her has automatically turned itself off.

"Ahem." I clear my throat, but she doesn't even stir.

"Hello?" I say loudly.

She jumps up in her chair and looks around herself, her wide brown eyes are bewildered and confused.

She sees me standing there staring at her and her plump cheeks flush bright pink.

"Mr. Dubrov?" she says in shock.

"Yes," I snap back at her. "What the hell are you doing, sleeping at your desk? We have strict company rules about not working late. Why are you still here?"

"I just wanted to finish this one project. I'm so close to completing it. If I can just—"

"But you know you aren't supposed to be here after hours."

She shifts uncomfortably in her chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that. But please, I'm so close—"

"How can you not know that?"

"I've only been here for a week, sir." She bites her lower lip nervously.

"I see. You're the new intern. What's your name?"

"Tia."

"Tia, it's past eight. You need to go home."

She shakes her head and looks horrified. Who would look horrified to be told they need to go home on a Friday night?

"Please, Mr. Dubrov. I really want to finish this. If I don't, it's going to throw my whole schedule off. I'll be thinking about it all weekend."

"You should be out having a drink with friends," I reply, more to find out about her than anything else.

"Drinks? I can't remember when last I had time to go out with friends." She laughs. "My life is all work and no play at the moment, but it's okay. I don't mind. Please, just let me stay long enough to finish what I need to do. Then I'll leave. I won't get in anyone's way."

I sigh in annoyance, but in all honestly, her determination to get her work done has impressed me. I'm more intrigued by her with every passing moment.

"Fine, but you can't work down here. Come and work up in my office. The cleaners will be coming through here soon, and you will be in the way. Besides, I'm sure it's not safe for you to be alone."

"I don't think—"

"Gather your things and come and work in my office," I demand abruptly.

I can't let her stay down here after hours. My brothers and cousins often use the building in the evenings for the illegal side of our operations, and I can't have her seeing any of that.

Dubrov Enterprises is the cover business for what we really do—the import and export of illegal substances. Sometimes weapons. None of our employees know that, though, and we prefer to keep it that way to ensure their safety and our own.

I step slightly away from her desk to give her some space to stand up and get her things together.

She's gorgeous.

She's wearing a body-hugging navy-blue skirt and a white blouse. The high-waisted skirt hugs her full, well-rounded hips and shows off her voluptuous curves.

I've always preferred a woman with plus-size curves, and she is the epitome of perfection by my standards.

My eyes are tracing up and down over her body when she turns to speak to me. "Can I take my laptop up there?"

She notices me staring at her.

Her cheeks grow even more pink.

"Yes, bring whatever you need," I say, clearing my throat and turning my back on her. "Hurry up."

I didn't mean for her to see me looking like that.

I don't want to give the wrong impression.

I start walking towards the stairs that lead to my office and hear a shuffle behind me as she hurries to catch up.

At least with her working in my office I can keep my eye on her. Check if she is doing what she says she's doing and make sure she doesn't catch sight of anything she's not supposed to see. There would be hell to pay if my brothers found out I let an employee work late and possibly see what they are up to after-hours.

I stand in the doorway of my office and hold the door open for her.

Once she is inside, she stands uncomfortably next to my desk.

I shut the door so that part of the view of the office floor below is blocked. Then I close the blinds across the massive glass wall of my office to block the rest of the view. I don't want to take any chances.

She glances nervously around.

"You can sit anywhere you like. The chair there opposite mine at my desk is fine, or the couch there if you want to work at the coffee table or on your lap."

I gesture around my office.

"Thanks."

She chooses to sit at my desk, opposite where I will be working.

I can't really make those calls I need to make to my clients with her in here, but I'll send them messages to confirm the shipments.

Tia gets comfortable, opening her files and the program she needs to work on.

Spreadsheets. I hate spreadsheets. My brain wants to switch off when I have to deal with spreadsheets, but it's a massive part of running a business, so it's one of those things I had to learn to embrace.

I walk over to my side of the desk and sit down, but I find that I'm struggling to look away from her.

She's focused on the work in front of her. Even though she looks stiff and formal, she is really beautiful. The longer I watch her, the more awkward I begin to feel.

Look away, do your own work. What are you doing, staring at her like that?

I force myself to look at my own laptop, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her glancing over at me.

I look up again, and in an awkward and tense moment, our eyes lock.

Hers are swirling chocolate pools that pull me right into her gaze.

She quickly looks away.

Fuck. I need to send these messages to my clients.

I shift my body in my seat to turn myself so that I'm facing away from her.

I send one message and then my thoughts are back on the mysterious beauty sitting across from me.

She looks young. Young enough to be out partying on a Friday night. Yet she was so adamant she stay here and finish her work instead. It takes dedication and commitment to a better future to make that choice, and honestly, I haven't met a lot of people who are that driven.

I'm staring at her again.

She has cupid-shaped lips, perfectly plump, pink and looking soft enough to—

Fuck.

Focus.

I turn back to my laptop and send another message. Two messages in the last thirty minutes. Well done, Yefim. Good work.

I sigh in frustration and she quickly looks up at me.

"Am I bothering you?" she asks nervously.

"Oh, no, it's just—work stuff." I wave my hand to dismiss her concern.

There is a very strange tension between us—we can't stop glancing at each other, and I am wondering if she's feeling the same thing I'm feeling.

I chuckle at the thought.

She grins and her entire face lights with mischief. My heart slams against my chest at the sight of her smile, and I can't seem to catch my breath. Holy fuck, she is gorgeous.