HER VENGEANCE, HIS OBSESSION

Chapter 14

Maya's POV

For a man who seemed to be in control of everything, Zakhar Mikhail was finally getting a taste of his own medicine.

We locked eyes, and something menacing flickered in his.

His grip tightened around my neck, making it harder for me to breathe, so I responded by pressing the knife harder against his throat.

That stupid smirk never left his face, even as blood began to trickle down his throat.

Okay, this guy was starting to piss me the f**k off.

I tightened my grip on the knife, refusing to let him get to me.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” I spat.

But that only made his smirk grow even wider.

I stared at him in disbelief, my irritation growing with every passing second.

“Do you find this funny?”

“Maybe.”

“You know you are an asshole, right?”

“So I've heard.”

I glared at him.

“Let go,” I demanded.

“Where did you get the knife?”

Are you kidding me? The nerve of this guy.

Still, I shrugged and answered, “I found it lying on the floor on my way to your study.”

More like Ilya gave it to me as a welcome gift. But that was none of his business.

Zakhar's eyes narrowed.

“Let. Go.” I repeated, applying more force to his neck.

His jaw tightened, but that stupid smirk still hadn't disappeared completely.

"So impatient," he said flatly.

“So on my last nerve,” I shot back.

“Are you done?”

“Yes. Now let me go, Zakhar.”

For a moment, those icy blue eyes held mine. There was something unreadable in them, something that made me hesitate.

Then his grip finally loosened.

I immediately stepped away from him, putting some distance between us.

I rubbed my neck and shot him a dirty look.

“f**k you,” I spat out.

He gave me a dismissive look.

I turned around and headed back to where I had started.

“Do you even know where you are going?”

Zakhar's voice made me stop dead in my tracks because, let's be honest, I had no idea where I was going, but I'll be damned if I told him.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and glared. “I don't need your help.”

His expression didn't change.

“Sure.”

Was that sarcasm?

This son of a b***h was actually throwing my own words back at me.

Or was he not?

With Zakhar, it was honestly hard to tell.

Stoic asshole.

“Come with me if you want to.”

He turned and started walking before I could answer.

I stood there for a second, watching his back disappear down the hallway.

Seriously?

Did he really think I'd follow him?

But, then again, if I let him leave, I might be stuck in here forever. And this was his office, so I might as well just follow him.

I sighed and hurried after him.

His long strides made it annoyingly difficult to keep up, so I had to pick up my pace.

Stupid short legs.

I finally caught up to him, slightly annoyed at how effortless his walking looked compared to my near-jogging.

Show off.

“Could you slow down?” I asked, breathlessly.

He didn't even look at me. He just kept walking like it was the most natural thing to do in the world while I was over here fighting for my life.

I f*****g hate this man.

After taking several turns, we finally got back to where we had started.

Hallelujahhhh.

I felt like I was going to pass out any moment from now.

He simply walked over to his office door and shut it with a soft click, paying me no attention.

I shot daggers at the door.

What an asshole.

I turned around and headed toward my office, which was right across from his.

At least I knew where I was going.

Come to think of it, I didn't accept the position, and he knew. Yet he still used it against me.

“Asshole,” I muttered.

I reached my door and grabbed the handle, only to stop when I remembered something.

I didn’t have a key.

Of course I didn't. The motherfucker didn't even give me one.

Still, I tried the handle.

And it clicked open.

I blinked.

What?

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately closing it behind me.

I turned and looked around my supposed office.

The office was surprisingly spacious, with soft beige walls, dark wooden furniture, and a large desk positioned near the windows. A black leather chair sat behind it, while a small sofa rested against one of the walls, creating a simple seating area. Shelves lined another wall, filled with neatly arranged files and books.

Everything looked so organized.

Even the damn office screamed, I have my s**t wrapped together.

Sheesh, talk about a perfectionist.

At least he had taste.

But we'll see.

I walked over to the desk and dropped into the chair.

I leaned back, letting out a small sigh as I looked around the room again.

Today is going to be a long one.

My phone suddenly started ringing.

I groaned.

Seriously?

I knew who it was.

Of course, he'd call when I was the most tired.

God, I hate this man. He truly was the devil's spawn.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“My office. Now.”

Then the call ended.

So this is my life now?

I made sure to save his number as, ‘Blue-Eyed Asshole’ before getting up with a groan and heading out.

Take that.

Now, let's see what he wants.