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Then, just like Yulian, she runs the gamut of emotions. Surprise, denial, acceptance, anger, fear. Her eyebrows pull together, her mouth pulling down in a deep frown.

She clearly had no idea this night was meant just for her.

I ignore her for the time being and plant myself in front of the line of staff. “I hope you know that it’s unprecedented to hire a catering company at The Plaza.”

A soft murmur of acknowledgement runs through the lineup. They nod their heads and stand taller, trying to earn my respect.

All but one. Jessa is staring daggers at me.

“I don’t accept mediocrity. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The head chef speaks on behalf of the entire staff.

“Excellent. Glad we understand each other. Good luck with service tonight,” I say.

The head chef, a portly older man, gives me a deep nod and then snaps his fingers. The staff marches out after him.

All but one.

Jessa lingers against the wall, waiting for the rest of her workmates to disappear into the kitchens. The moment the door closes on them, she walks right up to me.

“You did this!” she says, jabbing her finger into my chest.

“You’re welcome.”

“I wasn’t thanking you,” she hisses. “You’re an asshole.”

I hear Lev chuckle from somewhere behind me. It’s clear Jessa hears him, too. Her frown sharpens, but she keeps her eyes fixed on me. “What the hell are you playing at?”

“I have no idea what you’re so upset about. I gave you a job.”

She rolls her eyes like I’m playing dumb. “Yeah, because you’re the kind of guy who just hands out favors with no strings attached. Yeah fucking right, Anton. You always want something in return. You should get ‘Quid Pro Quo’ tattooed on your damn forehead.”

I smirk. “So you’re not totally clueless.”

“I’m not giving you back the phone,” she snaps.

“No?”

“No.” She grits her teeth and jerks her chin out at me defiantly. “Giving me this job changes nothing. I’m sticking to my guns.”

“To your detriment.”

She frowns. “Is that a threat?”

“Friendly warning, nothing more.”

“You’re underestimating me,” she asserts. “I’m not as weak-willed as the skanks you’re clearly used to spending time with.”

I have to bite back a laugh. “If you only knew.”

Her expression falters. She wipes it clean and glares at me again. “Can’t wait for tonight to be over so I never have to see you again.”

My smirk grows. “I wouldn’t be so sure. This is less of a finale and more of a trial run.”

She frowns, but she can’t help asking, “What?”

“I have a job offer for you. I need a chef in my home.”


Tags: Nicole Fox Stepanov Bratva Erotic