Page 12 of Taken By My Grumpy Pakhan

“Here are the files you asked for, sir.”

The voice reaching me was a sultry drawl with no raspiness or pause. I lifted my head to find a platinum blonde with boobs almost spilling out of her shirt holding out a stack of files.

“Who are you?”

She offered me a front row to her veneer-lined smile. “I’m Amanda. The new receptionist.”

My eyes narrowed. “New?”

“Yes. The old one quit two days ago.”

She quit? Ice replaced the heat in my blood.

“Leave the files on the table and get out.”

“Sir—” She nodded when she caught the expression on my face. “Yes, sir.”

I indulged in something I never cared for, pulling up the employee details when the door shut behind Amanda.

Genevieve Sinclair.

Her pouty lips and hazel eyes stared back at me the way they did in the elevator.

Her resignation letter was tendered the morning after we had sex. The morning, not afternoon or evening. 10:00 a.m.

I was caught between the bitter aftertaste of disrespect and interest as I perused the bland letter of gratitude and regret.

No woman ever left my bed before I woke, and none quit their jobs to get away from me.

If anything, they took jobs, redefined their looks and personality to get my attention.

Genevieve made quite the impression if that was her aim, but she should’ve saved the theatrics for a weaker man.

I closed the tab, picked up my phone and dialed my driver. “Bring Candice to my office.”

Chapter Four

Genevieve

“Can’t remember the last time I had breakfast this good,” Leo said through a mouthful of food.

I smiled, flipping the pancake. “You know it's a bad habit to speak with food in your mouth?”

“Of course, Mom.” I could hear the eyeroll in his voice.

“Mom would’ve whacked you in the head with a spatula. Be grateful I’m the kinder version.”

“Totally.”

I finished the last pancake and turned to find my brother down to his last piece. I gave him six.

He raised a brow. “What? A boy’s gotta eat.”

“Mhmm.” I placed two more on his plate, leaving me with three. “You’re 23, Leo. That’s hardly a boy in my book.”

“Tell that to Dad. He called me ‘my boy’ till the very end.” He dug into his food without a word of thanks while I watched.

He had always been like that. A selfish, impulsive charmer. Our parents hated how he only looked out for himself, but I always thought he was just a kid and it was normal for all last-born children to be a bit selfish.