Chapter 3.

MAEVE

“Watch it, you damn bitch!”

“Oh, put a damn sock in it, granny!” I spat back at the middle-aged man honking his car at me after I cut past him in my hurry. Sure, I had taken a risk, but the old fart had no idea what was at stake here.

Not that I expected him to. He was probably experiencing a midlife crisis.

Moments later, I swerved into a particularly tight parking space in the garage, throwing all caution to the wind. It was close to noon at this point, despite me practically jumping into the shower and throwing some clothes on at breakneck speed.

Taking one precious second to check my reflection in the rearview mirror, I adjusted my wavy sandy-brown hair styled into a french bob. I had no time to conceal the shadows under my bright green eyes, so I looked exactly like my situation. A mess.

I ran out of the car and towards the elevator, only to find out that it was out of service.

“Shit.” I turned towards the stairs instead.

“Ivanov!” My supervisor boomed when I finally burst onto my floor, “I'm surprised you decided to show up at all, today!”

Mr. Portnov, the overall supervisor of this small law firm, was a behemoth of a man. Several feet tall, meaty shoulders, an equally meaty torso that was nearly always bursting through his buttons, and legs that were disproportionately skinny. He definitely missed leg days and much-needed therapy sessions for his anger issues.

“I'm so sorry—”

He cut me off, “Oh, you should be sorry, alright! Because you'd have a lot of explanation to give the manager on how we just lost our top client due to your incompetence!”

“What?”

He threw a bunch of papers at me, “You don't even remember your own schedule for today?! I should fire you this instant!”

My heart dropped, just as my shaky hands raised the files so I could get a good look. I immediately remembered that our top client had a rather problematic lawsuit against their business, and I had been scheduled to take over from the previous lawyer who suddenly got ill.

“I could go to the client's address, try to work things out…” I was rambling, while the other workers held their breaths.

“Not only are you incompetent, but you're pathetic and deplorable!” He yelled, knocking the files out of my hands. The papers fluttered all over the floor. “There is no coming back from this! I should cut your paycheck to make up for what we've lost, Miss Ivanov—!”

I looked at him in outrage.

He nodded, “That's the least we can do if we decide to let you keep your job. Once the manager gets here, get to the office and learn your fate!”

He stormed off, leaving me standing there in a pile of papers. Utterly defeated, I stooped to pick them up. Whispers traveled through the work cubicles, eyes following my energy move, filled with judgment.

Did that fucker Portnov think I wanted this job? That I wanted to work in these harsh, ruthless conditions while being paid pennies? This small firm was the only one I found willing to employ fresh law school graduates like me if only to exploit us.

I was drowning in debt, getting my law certificate was incredibly expensive, and I had to work myself to the bone to slowly pay it off. Also, breaking away from Zhenya, with his powerful mafia connections, had been incredibly expensive. Still, with all the debt I had acquired, I wasn't free from him.

I spent every waking hour scared and terrified for my life, knowing he could be anywhere, plotting and waiting to pounce. I was helpless, sometimes I cried until my eyes were damn dry. I wish I could escape this pathetic hide-and-seek situation I was stuck with, with such an abusive man!

I wish I could leave this worthless job!

But no, I had to put up with this bullshit, go home, look pretty, and head to the club at night to put up with another bullshit.

I had no one to rely on. But there was only so much my mind could endure, for the past year, and a couple months was filled with nothing but pain. I felt myself cracking, and god help me, my temper would ruin everything.

———

I closed my eyes, and let out a long exhale. I was going insane, suffocating under all the tension. Desperate for an escape, I turned to the windows. But I spotted something different about the usual view. On the street below, was a car.

The black car. It was the same one. I was certain. My coffee slipped out of my hand and made a mess on the floor. I heard gasps of outrage from my colleagues, but at the same time, I didn't hear them.

Roaring noises filled my ears, as my eyes watered in shock. The car was following me. Whoever was in there was watching me at work… waiting…

Suddenly flashbacks of Zhenya's hands around my throat attacked me. Squeezing so hard…

My deep-rooted fear blew up in full force, that feeling of imminent danger… it sent my entire body trembling as I stared down at the tinted glass. Whoever was watching me would hurt me just like Zhenya did—

“Miss. Ivanov!” A voice broke into my panicked thoughts, “Manager’s office, now.”

I gathered myself, peeled my eyes off the black car, and went to the office. The manager and the supervisor sat on the sofa, staring condescendingly.

“I'm deeply sorry—”

“That’s not going to undo what you've done.” The manager, a round, greedy man, snapped at me in a heavily accented tone. “This client will likely file a lawsuit against us. If that goes through, we'll be losing more other clients. All because of you.”

“I have decided not to fire you, because that will be letting you off easy.” He continued, “You will have to remain to clean up your mess, so it's up to your supervisor to determine what consequences you will face.”

The supervisor sat up, “Oh, I have decided, sir. She will get a 70% cut on her paycheck for three months. In addition, tender a personal and official apology to the client, while working extra hours to mop up our losses.”

What?!

“You may leave.”

I walked out of there on rubbery legs, dazed and completely shocked by the clusterfuck I had ended up in.

For the rest of my work hours, I sat blindly in front of my computer, wondering if Mr. Portnov was actually the devil in human flesh.

The other workers had long left, in the time I took to muster up the strength to leave my seat. The office was completely empty, or so I thought, until I heard footsteps behind me.

“Maeve Ivanov.” It was the supervisor, “My office.”

Hope blossomed in my chest. He could have had a change of heart and wanted to lessen my punishment. So I hurried into his office. Maybe it was the stress of the week messing up my brain, but after dealing with creepy men for a long time I should have realized something was wrong.

But I did feel it the moment the office door clicked shut behind me.

“What did you want to talk about, sir?”

The supervisor looked at me over, “I can decide not to cut your paycheck at all, Maeve, depending on how willing you are to cooperate.”

He was inching closer, his meaty torso blocking my view of the door.

I stepped back, frowning, “What are you doing?”

“You're a beautiful girl. I've had my sights set on you for a while, and we can be of benefit to each other.” His hand landed on my thigh, sliding my skirt upwards, “I can make this entire situation disappear. Never mind the way I yell sometimes, it's just for show, so no one gets suspicious of us.”

“Us?” I spat, feeling rage bubbling up my throat. “You must be sick, Portnov!”

I grabbed his hand and flung it off my thigh.

Anger flooded his eyes, “How dare you?! You think you have a choice?!”

What the fuck.

“The hell I do!” I jumped away from him, but he caught me and slammed me back on his desk.

I grunted, trying to pry off his meaty hands groping my thighs and sliding under my skirt. His breath smelled like garlic, wet against my face as he tried to press his mouth against mine.

“You pig!”

Red filled my vision, and I grabbed the first solid object my hand touched. It was his desktop. I slammed the sharp edge right into the side of his head, with all the force I could muster.

He bellowed in pain, staggering to the floor. He could be bleeding, I didn't wait to find out. My clothes were ruffled, a mess, and I was blind with panic, yet I scrambled out of that office like my ass was on fire.

I drove straight to the club, not bothering to fix my disheveled appearance. Like a wounded animal, I headed straight to Marina's office, nearly biting off the head of the enforcer that dared stand in my way.

“State your business.” He snarled.

My voice was hard, “Tell the boss, that Maeve fucking Ivanov is here to see her.”

He looked me over, scoffed, and disappeared behind the doors. My entire body vibrated with a rage that had finally erupted after a long while of keeping it in check. I would do anything, sell my womb, go to hell, and back than ever let that bastard’s meaty fingers touch me again.

I was done being afraid of every shadow. I was done being harassed by Zhenya simply because he was powerful. I was done with that miserable life.

Marina Romanovich was my only chance for safety, security, and wealth. With the resources her husband had, Zhenya or Portnov would never be able to find me ever again.

The enforcer returned and opened the doors for me. I stepped in, to see Marina in her swivel chair, twirling her glass of wine in her bedecked fingers.

Her grin was big and triumphant. “I knew I would be seeing you again, darling.”