Chapter 7

Adelia stepped off the crowded city bus. The exhaust fumes burned her nose. She walked two blocks down Wall Street and stopped in front of a sleek, black-glass skyscraper housing a newly established investment firm.

She took a deep breath, pushing the heavy glass doors open. She rode the high-speed elevator to the top floor and stepped into a waiting area designed with harsh, modern industrial steel and exposed concrete.

Before checking in, she walked into the restroom. She turned on the faucet and splashed freezing water onto her pale cheeks to force some color into them. She pulled her hair back into a severe, flawless chignon. She needed to project absolute competence.

She walked to the reception desk. The receptionist called her name and pointed toward a massive set of frosted glass doors.

Adelia pushed the doors open and stepped into the CEO's office.

A man sat behind a massive black desk in a high-backed leather chair. He was facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the financial district while smoking a thick cigar.

Adelia stood in the center of the room. She began her rehearsed, professional introduction.

The leather chair slowly swiveled around.

The man blew a cloud of gray smoke into the air. His face revealed a wicked, predatory smile.

Adelia's pupils dilated. Her feet froze to the carpet. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

It was Ivan Adler.

A violent memory flashed behind her eyes. Three years ago, at a charity gala, Ivan had cornered her on a dark balcony. He had grabbed her waist and tried to force his mouth onto hers. Dominic had walked out, grabbed Ivan by the collar, and shattered Ivan's nose with a single, brutal punch.

In the aftermath, Dominic used the full weight of Apex Holdings to crush Ivan's family business. Ivan was blacklisted from Wall Street and forced into exile in Europe.

Ivan watched the shock ripple across Adelia's face. He looked incredibly satisfied. He leaned forward and crushed his cigar into a heavy crystal ashtray.

He stood up, placed both hands flat on his desk, and leaned toward her. His eyes raked over her cheap, ill-fitting suit with undisguised malice.

He laughed. He asked her how the mighty Mrs. Thompson had fallen so low as to wear thrift-store trash. He asked why her arrogant bastard of a husband hadn't locked her up in his golden cage.

Adelia forced her facial muscles to relax. The shock vanished, replaced by a mask of cold indifference. She instantly realized this wasn't an interview. This was a trap designed to humiliate her.

Instead of turning around and running, she took a step forward. She placed her printed resume directly on the center of his desk.

She looked him dead in the eye and stated she was here to apply for the executive assistant position.

Ivan threw his head back and laughed loudly. The sound bounced off the concrete walls. He stopped laughing, his eyes turning cruel.

He told her bluntly that the only reason he was hiring her was to slap Dominic across the face.

He walked around the desk and stopped inches from her. He lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. He said if she was willing to stay here and be his obedient dog, he would pay her enough to live very comfortably in Manhattan.

Adelia didn't flinch. She didn't step back. She kept her spine rigid.

Without breaking eye contact, she began speaking in rapid, flawless French, summarizing the European Central Bank's latest interest rate policies. She seamlessly switched to German, detailing the manufacturing outputs in Berlin. She finished in Spanish, analyzing the emerging markets in South America.

Ivan froze. The mocking smirk slid off his face. A flash of genuine surprise widened his eyes.

Adelia switched back to English. Her voice was clinical and detached.

She stated that she was fluent in five languages and possessed elite-level logistical and analytical skills. She told him she was a high-value asset, not anyone's dog.

She stared at the man who had once assaulted her. She told him that his personal vendetta against her ex-husband was none of her business. She said as long as the money cleared her bank account, she would work for the devil himself.

Her absolute, ruthless pragmatism caught Ivan off guard. He realized the woman standing in front of him was entirely different from the terrified girl on the balcony three years ago. She was interesting.

Ivan snapped his fingers. He walked back to his chair and sat down.

He told her she was hired immediately as his personal executive assistant. The probationary salary was twenty thousand dollars a month.

Hearing that number, the tight knot of panic in Adelia's chest loosened slightly. That money would pull her and her sister out of hell.

But Ivan immediately dropped his condition. He told her she had to accompany him tonight to an exclusive, top-tier Wall Street networking banquet.

Adelia's stomach tightened again. She knew exactly what that meant. Dominic would absolutely be at that banquet. Ivan wanted to parade her around like a trophy to publicly humiliate his enemy.

She hesitated for two seconds. Then she clamped her jaw shut and nodded. She said it was part of her job description.

Ivan smiled a genuine, dangerous smile. He pressed a button on his intercom. A minute later, his secretary walked in carrying a massive, heavy shopping bag from a luxury boutique.

Ivan pushed the bag across the desk toward Adelia. He ordered her to go change. He said his assistant wasn't going to walk into a ballroom looking like a homeless beggar.

Adelia grabbed the thick rope handles of the bag. She didn't say thank you. She turned on her heel and walked out of the office.

She went straight to the employee restroom. She locked the door and stared at her exhausted face in the mirror. She took a deep breath, unbuttoned her cheap jacket, and began pulling out the black designer dress Ivan had prepared for the slaughter.