Page 14 of The Bratva Stalker and His Pregnant Bride

Slowly, deliberately, I reach into my breast pocket and pull out a sleek Montblanc pen. I slide it across the table, park it directly on top of the leather folder, and look her dead in the eye.

“Sign the contract at your doubled rate, Ms. Kang,” I say, my voice a quiet, dominant murmur that commands the entire room. “But understand this: For that price, I expect absolute, flawless execution. If there’s even a single shadow of a mistake, I won’t just terminate the contract. I’ll personally ensure your shipping lines never see the water again.”

Ashley stares at the pen, then up at me. The air between us is thick, volatile, and vibrating with the exact same suffocating, consuming energy that nearly burned us both alive in that hotel suite years ago. The boardroom is gone. The associates are gone. It’s just the two of us, locked in a silent, high-stakes battle of wills.

Without breaking eye contact, she reaches out, her small, delicate hand picking up the pen. She opens the folder, flips to the final page, and signs her name with a sharp, aggressive stroke.

She snaps the folder shut, sliding it back to me.

“We begin on Thursday,” she says, her voice hard as steel. “My team will handle the coordinates.”

She snaps the folder shut, sliding it back across the smooth glass table. It stops directly in front of me.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” I say, resting my hands on the leather surface of the file. “As I mentioned, discretion and loyalty are the only currencies that matter in my operations. I don’t tolerate leakage of any kind.”

Ashley tilts her head, her dark eyes flashing with a cold, mocking light. “You don’t need to worry about my loyalty, Mr. Rusnak. In my experience, true reliability is proven through actions, not empty promises. Anyone can talk a big game when it suits them, but what they do when the dust settles is what actually defines their character.”

She pauses, letting the words hang heavily in the space between us.

“My actions will speak for themselves,” she adds, her voice dropping a fraction. “I suggest you hold yourself to the same standard of execution.”

Beside me, Kaplan doesn’t blink, likely assuming she’s asserting her dominance as a powerful CEO protecting her reputation. But I hear the double meaning loud and clear.

It’s a razor-sharp, quiet strike aimed directly at the ghost of our past—at the man who whispered promises of worship into her skin, took what he wanted, and slipped away into the night before she even woke up.

I don’t let a single muscle in my face betray me. I don’t flinch, and I don’t look away. I simply absorb the blow, holding her gaze with a cool, unbothered calm that I know must infuriate her.

“Agreed,” I reply smoothly.

From there, the rest of the negotiation progresses with clinical, flawless precision. Neither of us allows the heavy, volatile history humming between us to bleed into the logistics.

We review the timeline, establish the secure communication channels, and lock in the financial routing. By the time we reach the end of the agenda, we have an ironclad, multi-million-dollar partnership.

“We’ll have the encrypted comms sent to your head of security by five today,” Kaplan says, standing up and closing his tablet. “Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Kang.”

“Likewise,” Ashley says, though the word is stiff.

Immediately, the tension in the room begins to dissipate as the teams prepare to disperse. Ashley gathers her things with rapid, efficient movements, snapping her tablet into her leather portfolio and sliding her chair back. She doesn’t look at me. She’s clearly putting her escape plan into motion, intending to walk out of this room and put as much distance between us as humanly possible.

She takes a step toward the door, her assistant already moving to open it.

“Kaplan,” I say, my deep voice cutting through the quiet rustle of paper and footsteps. “Give us the room.”

Ashley freezes mid-step, her back stiffening instantly.

I look toward her assistant, Maya, who has paused near the door. “You too, Miss Verma. Leave the files. Your CEO and I have a few private operational details to finalize.”

Ashley turns around slowly. I can see the sudden, sharp spike of anger in her eyes, the way her chest heaves with a silent, furious breath. She’s utterly displeased by the sudden command, her jaw clenching so hard I can see the strain in her neck. Every defensive instinct is screaming at her to refuse, to walk out and show me she doesn’t take orders.

But her pride is a double-edged sword. She looks at Kaplan, then at Maya, who’s waiting for her cue. Ashley knows that if she makes a scene, if she argues or storms out, it’ll raise questions. It will expose a crack in the pristine, untouchable armor she has spent four years building.

She forces her expression back into a mask of rigid, icy professionalism.

“It’s fine, Maya,” Ashley says, her voice tight but controlled. “Wait for me in my office. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Maya nods hesitantly, stepping out of the room behind Kaplan. The heavy glass doors slide shut with a soft, sealing click, leaving the two of us completely alone in the sudden, deafening silence of the boardroom.

Chapter 7 – Ashley