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And what he wants… isme.
I meet Ruslan’s steely gaze. “What happens if I say no?”
He shrugs as though this is just another job interview for him and he has a thousand other candidates lined up behind me. “If you say no, I’ll let you go with a generous severance package, a glowing recommendation, and no mention of the phone call.”
It’s a relief, but it doesn’t come close to comforting me.
“But if you say yes…” His eyes turn a dark, liquid gold. “It will definitely be worth your while. I havemanyskills, Ms. Carson, and they’re not limited to business.”
My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. I’m sure he sees it.
He leans against his leather wingback. “It’s entirely up to you.”
I stare at the contract in my lap. It’s not a small decision by any stretch of the imagination. “Can I have some time to think about this?”
“You can have today off. I expect your answer by tomorrow.”
He’s not really giving me a whole lot of time, but I think we both know more time will only confuse me. Maybe it’s better this way.
I start to stand when he says, “One more thing, Ms. Carson.”
So I freeze, ass hovering over the seat. “Yes?”
“This stays between the two of us.” His expression turns deadly. I’ve seen that look on his face in the boardroom, right before he pounces on some poor fool who was stupid enough to question him. “If you tell a soul about the contract, the deal is off. No protection, no recommendations, no pension—and I have every means to utterly destroy your chances of employment in any capacity ever again. Am I making myself clear?”
I gulp hard. “Crystal.”
“Good. Then you’re excused.”
It’s the normal goodbye routine. He picks up his phone, his gaze drops, and just like that, I go back to being a nobody. No one would guess that a few moments ago, he was propositioning me for sex. Forcontractedsex.
I have a lot to process.
I grab my stuff and race out of the building, trying to remember the last time I had a day off. It still doesn’t feel like a free day; it feels like a weight sitting squarely on my chest. A weight that gets heavier and heavier with every passing minute.
I take the subway over to Central Park and find a bench in a shady corner. I pull out the contract folder and stare at the cover, gathering up the strength to start reading. Then, with a sigh, I dive in.
Twenty minutes later, I have a growing headache and a pro-con list that’s pulling me at both ends.
Pro:The money is amazing. I’d be able to actually take care of the kids without worrying so damn much every second of every day.
Con:I would be exchanging sex for money.
Pro:I’ll be able to pay off the loans faster.
Con:Ruslan Oryolov is an influential man with possible mob connections. All rumors, but in my opinion, there’s no smoke without fire.
Pro:He also happens to be a very, very,veryattractive influential man with possible mob connections.
Con:He’s an asshole.
Pro:He’s an asshole who’s probablygreatin bed.
I close the contract after staring at the Non-Disclosure section of the agreement for what feels like an eternity.
If rumors of Ruslan’s supposed mob ties are to be believed, I would be exposing the kids to danger. It just feels like too big a risk. Which is why, when I put the contract back in my bag and get to my feet, I feel like I’ve made my decision.
It’s too crazy, too reckless, too insane of a deal for me to agree to. I can’t compromise myself that way and I can’t let this decision bleed into the kids’ lives. Isn’t it more important that they’re safe?
