the rival asked if his secretary was single, and the mafia boss burned a million-dollar deal to the ground

“My mistake.”

“Yes,” Maxim said. “It was.”

He finally turned to me.

“Ms. Harper. My office. Now.”

It was not a request.

But for the first time, I did not obey automatically.

I closed my laptop with deliberate calm, slid it into my bag, and met his eyes.

“If this conversation is about me, then I will walk there by choice.”

Something unreadable passed across his face.

“Then choose,” he said.

So I did.

I walked out first.

The elevator ride to Maxim’s private floor felt longer than all nine years I had worked for him. Vitali, his head of security, stood beside the doors like a stone statue. He did not look at me, but I could feel his curiosity.

Maxim entered behind me.

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