Chapter 7

My mouth drops open in disbelief. “You can’t be serious,” I blurt out, convinced this must be some kind of twisted joke.

I’ve worked for the man for over a year; I know when he’s playing and when he’s dead serious. And right now, he’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him.

As my mind races with all kinds of thoughts, I notice a subtle shift in Ivan’s demeanor. His impeccable posture, always so controlled and commanding, appears even more pronounced, as if steeling himself for my reaction.

His eyes, often guarded and unreadable, hold a flicker of either anticipation or a challenge. It’s hard to tell, but it’s a departure from his typical stoic and confident expression.

He reaffirms his statement with unwavering certainty. “I’m very serious.”

The resolve in his voice is unmistakable, and it sends a shiver down my spine. As he speaks, his jaw tightens ever so slightly, a physical manifestation of the determination in his words. It’s a small movement, but in the quiet of his office, it feels significant.

I stare into his eyes, searching for any hint of jest, any small sign that this is all just a bizarre prank. But there’s no hint of humor, no trace of a smirk. Just the steady gaze of a man who’s used to getting what he wants.

Oddly, the intense determination to have me as his wife, his refusal to even entertain a ‘no’ makes him the sexiest damn man on the planet.

A part of me I didn’t even know existed almost whispers a ‘yes.’ But then the absurdity of the situation crashes back into me. This isn’t a fairy tale, it’s my life, and his proposal is nothing short of insane.

An uncontrollable laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep inside, brought on by the irrationality and silliness of it all. It starts as a chuckle, then grows into full-blown, hysterical laughter. Tears start to stream down my face, my sides ache, and I can barely catch my breath.

Ivan just watches me, an unreadable expression on his face. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t try to stop me. He just lets me laugh, his eyes following every movement, every shake of my shoulders.

It takes a good minute or two for me to get a handle on myself. I wipe the tears from my eyes, still chuckling softly.

‘I’m sorry,’ I manage to say between residual giggles. ‘It’s just… this is so unexpected.’

He continues to watch me, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he regretting his proposal, considering rescinding it? Or is he just recalculating his approach, like he does with every other challenge he faces?

His composure doesn’t waver, not even for a second, as I pull myself away from the edge of hysteria. He’s as cool and collected as ever, watching me with a curiosity that’s both intimidating and strangely alluring.

I regain a bit of my composure. It’s time to put him in his place. ‘I don’t know what you’re used to in Russia, but here in America, women don’t ask how high when a man tells them to jump,’ I say, my tone laced with a mix of humor and defiance.

He responds smoothly, ‘I haven’t lived in Russia for decades.’ His correction catches me off guard.

‘Why do you think I would agree to a loveless marriage just so you can have a child?’ I ask, my voice steadier now though my mind is racing with the implications of what he’s proposing.

What he does next is completely unexpected. He steps closer, entering my personal space with a confidence that’s as startling as it is unsettling. My stomach does a flip, and I feel my heart rate accelerate. Given what happened last night, I shouldn’t be so startled by this move, but Ivan manages to make my chest tighten every time he comes near me.

The laughter that filled the room moments ago has vanished, replaced by an intense awkwardness. Ivan is close now, so close I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, sense the formidable presence that makes him who he is. It’s overwhelming, the proximity, and a part of me wishes I could feel more than just his radiating warmth.

He speaks again, his voice low and assured. ‘Because I will take care of all your needs.’ The words hang in the air, and I’m acutely aware of the double entendre. It sends a jolt of awareness through me, and I’m suddenly very conscious of how close he is, of the implications of his words.

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, fantasies and the sudden, undeniable realization that my body is still reacting to him in a way it has no business doing. Honestly, I’d hoped that last night’s episode might’ve taken the edge off. That I got over my desire for him. But I feel a heat spreading through me, a flush of arousal that’s both embarrassing and exhilarating. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to need to change my panties after this meeting.

My boss, the man who just proposed a bizarre, business-like marriage, is standing in front of me, and all I can think about is how much I want him. How much I want to feel his hands on me, his lips against mine. How badly I need him inside me.

His next words snap me out of the daze his proximity had plunged me into.

‘I know about your dream,’ he says, and my arousal is replaced by surprise. ‘The nonprofit,’ he continues, ‘named for your mother.’ His voice is matter-of-fact, but the content of his words sends a jolt through me.

I stare at him, my confusion clear. ‘How do you know about that?’ The question comes out sharper than I intend, but the revelation that he’s privy to my personal aspirations is unsettling.

‘I’ve read your blog,’ Ivan admits, and the shock that ripples through me must be evident on my face. The idea that the man who seems to have little time for anything not directly related to his business has read my personal blog is almost too strange to believe.

He explains further, ‘I found it moving.’ He’s never mentioned it before, never hinted that he knew about this side of me.

His next proposition, however, brings me back to the surreal reality of our conversation. ‘If you help me,’ he says, ‘I’ll help you. I need an heir, and you need start-up funds. I want you to be my wife and have at least one child with me.’

I feel my eyes widen in disbelief at his words. ‘You really are serious.”

‘Yes,’ he continues, undeterred by my reaction. ‘In exchange, I will provide the necessary funds to kickstart your nonprofit, the one you’ve dreamed of creating in memory of your mother.’

It’s a lot of unanticipated information to process. I can’t deny the offer is tempting—a chance to start my nonprofit, to honor my mother’s memory, is something I’ve been working toward for years. But marriage? A child? With Ivan?

The practicality of his offer is overshadowed by the enormity of its personal consequences. Marriage isn’t a business deal; it’s a commitment, a union, a partnership. And a child is a whole other life, a person who would depend on us, on me.

‘I…’ My voice trails off as I try to gather my thoughts. ‘This is a lot to take in, Ivan. You’re talking about marriage, a child. This isn’t just some business transaction I can make a quick decision on.’

He looks at me with an uncharacteristic softness. ‘It’s a practical solution to both our needs,’ he responds, his tone steady.

Practical. There’s that word again. It’s so typical of the man who views the world through a lens of efficiency and logic. But life, love, family—those aren’t just practical matters. They’re emotional, personal, complex.

The magnitude of Ivan’s proposal leaves me grasping for words. ‘Would you expect me to continue working as your assistant?’ I finally manage to ask, my voice tinged with incredulity.

His response is immediate yet thoughtful. ‘That will be your choice,’ he says. ‘But I would prefer if you stayed home with our child once he or she is born. From there, you could easily work on your nonprofit.’

I’m speechless, my mind a blank canvas. The scenario he’s painting of me being at home, raising our child, working on my dream project—it all feels like something out of a parallel universe. The theme to “The Twilight Zone” starts going off in my head.

It’s tempting, undeniably so, but it’s also a complete upheaval of everything I know. And he’s not even done yet.

‘I’ll have a prenup drawn up by my lawyers,’ he continues, his voice calm. ‘You can read it at your leisure.’

A prenup. Of course there’d be a prenup. Everything neatly arranged, legally binding, no loose ends. It’s so like him to think of every detail, to plan for every eventuality.

‘Any requests?’ he asks.

The question catches me off guard. Requests? What kind of requests do you make in a situation like this?

I stare at him, trying to process everything he’s just said. This isn’t just a marriage proposal; it’s a life-altering decision, a crossroads that could lead me down a path I’d never imagined.

‘Requests?’ I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘I… I don’t even know where to start.’ The truth is, I’m overwhelmed, trying to navigate this strange new territory between personal desires and professional boundaries.

Ivan watches me, waiting patiently for my response. But what can I say? What can I ask for in a situation as bizarre and unprecedented as this?

Seated there in his office, with the man I’ve known only as my boss offering me a future so radically different from anything I’ve ever considered, I realize the gravity of what’s being asked of me.

This goes beyond any job offer or request. This is a complete transformation of my life as I know it.