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"Next is Eliza Graham. She's younger, less experienced, but very eager. Graduated top of her class, has a knack for languages. Might be a good fit if you're looking for fresh ideas," she continues, her finger tracing the lines of text.
"Languages, you say?" I murmur, intrigued. "That could be useful, considering our expanding international dealings."
Julie nods, her eyes meeting mine. "Exactly. She could bring a new perspective to the team. Plus, her references are glowing."
I can’t help but smile at her thoroughness. Julie has always had a keen eye for talent, an ability to see potential where others might not.
“And the last one?” I ask, sipping my coffee.
“Ah, yes. Jonathan Kline. He's a bit of an enigma. Worked in various sectors, a bit of a jack-of-all-trades. Could be a wildcard, but sometimes that's exactly what you need.”
Her analysis is spot-on, as usual. She has a way of cutting through the fluff, getting straight to the heart of the matter. It’s one of the many reasons she’s been more than just an assistant to me.
While she talks, I scan our surroundings. That's when I spot them—a pair of men seated a few tables behind us. One of them is too familiar for my liking. Our eyes meet, and he gives a subtle chin lift, a silent command for me to come over.
A surge of anger courses through me. No one summons Ivan Stepanov. But I can't afford to have a confrontation here, not in front of Julie. I need to handle this discreetly.
"I need to take care of something quickly," I say, my tone calm but firm. "I'll be right back."
She looks up, a flicker of concern crossing her features. "Is everything okay?"
"It's just a minor business matter," I assure her, though my mind is already racing with possibilities. There’s no doubt that Boris has something to do with the presence of these men. They’re goons, the sort of heavy-hitters you dispatch when you want to send a message of intimidation.
Standing up, I walk toward the men, my steps measured, my expression controlled. Their eyes are on me as I approach, evaluating, calculating. The familiar man smirks, a hint of smugness in his demeanor. I'm already formulating strategies, preparing for whatever this encounter might bring.
As I get closer, my gaze hardens. The recognition is instant. It’s Karl, an associate from a past I'd rather forget. His companion, a stocky man with a brutish demeanor, eyes me with a mix of curiosity and challenge.
"What do you want, Karl?" I ask, my voice low and controlled.
He smirks, a gesture that irks me. "Just wanted to say hello to an old friend," he replies, his tone laced with mockery.
I don't have time for this. "If that's all, then I'm leaving," I say, turning to walk away.
Karl reaches out, grabbing my arm. "Not so fast, Ivan. Boris wants to talk to you." He holds out a phone, the screen showing a call in progress.
Boris. The name alone is enough to set my nerves on edge. Reluctantly I take the phone, holding it to my ear. "Boris," I greet, my tone icy.
"Ivan, my boy," Boris’ voice oozes through the speaker, a mix of familiarity and threat. "I've heard about your little wedding and honeymoon. Quite the catch you've got yourself there. A real hot babe, I hear."
His words make my blood boil. The fact that he's been spying on me, on Julie, is a violation I can't tolerate. "What do you want, Boris?" I demand.
His chuckle is cold, devoid of humor. "I told you weeks ago that I have a job for you, Ivan. Something only you can handle. And you're going to do it, or else your lovely wife might find herself in a bit of trouble."
The threat is unmistakable. My grip tightens on the phone, anger coursing through me. "You leave her out of this," I growl.
"Oh, I will, as long as you cooperate," Boris replies, his voice a serpent's hiss.
I end the call without another word, my mind racing. There's no way I'm getting involved with the Bratva again, not after everything I've done to distance myself from that life. But Boris’ threat to Julie changes everything.
I hand the phone back to Karl, my expression stone-cold. "Tell Boris he can go to hell," I say, and then I turn and walk away, leaving them sitting there.
As I rejoin Julie at the table, I can feel her eyes on me, filled with concern. "Is everything okay?" she asks, her voice tinged with worry.
I force a smile, one that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "Everything's fine," I lie, hoping to sound convincing. "Just some old business acquaintances."
But Julie isn't easily fooled. She studies me, her expression thoughtful, her eyes searching for the truth. "If you say so," she says, but there's a note of skepticism in her voice.
I nod, trying to push away the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. Boris’ threat hangs over me like a dark cloud, but I'm determined to protect Julie, to keep her safe from the shadows of my past.
