Chapter 2

Nikolai POV "Come with me," the attractive woman whispered in my ear, her touch sending shivers down my spine. The club was already bustling with activity, filled with thumping music and swirling lights. I downed a shot of tequila and followed her, feeling slightly buzzed but not caring. "Where do you think you're going?" My bodyguard, Max, blocked my path. "We've got that dinner interview tonight." "Ugh, I'm not interested in some boring dinner," I groaned. "Move, Max." "But sir, Austin said it's important," Max insisted. I clenched my jaw. My parents had been threatening to disinherit me for months, and this interview was their latest attempt to reform my image. I couldn't afford to mess it up. "Give me fifteen minutes, Max," I said, holding up my hand to signal him to back off for a bit. Before I knew it, I found myself in the restroom, receiving oral sex from the woman. I guided her head, lost in the moment until I finished. "Good job," I praised her as she swallowed. "Thanks," she replied, licking her lips. I left the restroom, already forgetting about her. Max was waiting outside. "Ready to go?" he asked. "Just a minute. Tucker just got here; I'll say hi and have a quick shot," I told him. "But sir, you'll be late for your interview," Max reminded me. "I'll be there on time. Relax. Five more minutes," I assured him, patting his back. "Okay, boss," Max relented, though I could see he wasn't pleased. Max had been my bodyguard since college, always by my side, knowing everything about my life and travels. "Hey, man! What's up?" I greeted my friend Tucker, a pilot at our airline company, as he approached. "Doing good, man. I just touched down in New York after sixteen hours of flying from Dubai. I'm so bored, and I can't sleep. I need alcohol and a hot chick to fuck."1 "Damn, man, you're just in time." I called the waiter and ordered a bottle of tequila. Thirty minutes later, we were still in the club, having a good time drinking, laughing, and making out with girls. "Alright! The night's young. Let's have fun." I poured more tequila into our glasses, then shouted, "Bottoms up!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Max waiting for me by the entrance, frowning. I untangled myself from the girls seated next to me and approached him. "What is it, Max? What's the problem?" "It's not my business to say, sir." I chuckled. "Come on. You can tell me anything. Spill it out. Forget I'm your boss tonight." "Well, it's a pity that that blogger drove five hours from Dansville, rented an Airbnb, and will get nothing." "Ah—so she's not just an old-maid librarian but a village woman." I smirked. "Well, life is not always a bed of roses, Max. You have to work hard to get to the top." Max raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. "Being rich doesn't exempt me from family expectations," I admitted. "I still have to prove myself to my parents to secure a spot in the company." "Don't you want to take over the family business?" Tucker asked. "I do," I replied. "But I also want to live my life to the fullest. Life's too short to just chase money. We have to enjoy it, experience new things, meet new people... That's what makes us truly happy, right?" "Yeah, I get it," Tucker nodded. Just then, my phone rang. It was Austin, my executive secretary. "Sir, it's already eight twenty. You're late for your interview with Miss Martins," Austin informed me. I sighed. Should I go to the interview? Pleasing my parents and securing my position in the company was important, but here I was, enjoying myself with Tucker and the girls. The girl next to me started kissing my neck, weakening my resolve. "I can't make it tonight. Cancel the meeting, Austin," I told him, turning my attention back to the girl. "But sir, your parents arranged this interview. It's crucial to distract the media from the princess drama," Austin insisted. "I said, cancel it. I don't need a boring spinster to interview me," I replied more firmly, kissing the other girl sitting on my left. "I can't, sir. Your position at the company will be at stake if you upset your parents again. This is your last chance to prove that you're capable of staying as a COO of the company and heir of your family's business empire." "Ah—they can't do that to me. I'm their only son." My lips twisted, suddenly upset. "Give the phone to Miss Martins. I'll cancel it myself."

Isabelle POV I wore all black for dinner while Amara dazzled in fuchsia. We arrived promptly at eight at a swanky New York restaurant. The high ceilings and unique chandeliers created a futuristic atmosphere. Seated at our elegant table, there was still no sign of Nikolai Ivanov. "It's eight fifteen and he's still not here. What's wrong with him?" Amara whispered to me, then turned to Austin, who looked sharp in his black tuxedo. "Did he reply to your text?" "No," Austin shook his head. "Maybe he's dealing with another emergency." "Again?" Amara rolled her eyes. "Let's give him a few more minutes. If he doesn't show, we're done," I declared, feeling frustrated. "I need a moment. I'll be in the ladies' room." Inside the bathroom stall, I overheard loud voices entering. "Spill it, what happened?" one girl asked. "I had dinner with Nikolai Ivanov last night," another girl, with a thick Russian accent, replied. "Wow, you're so lucky," the first girl exclaimed. "Yeah, but not lucky enough to get into his bed. He left with that German model at midnight," the Russian girl revealed. "I'm jealous. She probably had morning sex with him," the first girl said. "Definitely," the Russian girl agreed. That jerk! Those women confirmed my suspicions that he was with his flings. What an unprofessional liar and time-waster!8 He treated me and my interview as unimportant and a joke. He should have said that he did not want to be interviewed before I bet my career on it! I walked back to our table, where Austin handed me the phone. "Yes, Mr. Ivanov?" I answered, masking my anger. "I'm really sorry, Miss Martins. Something came up tonight. I can't meet you. It's another emergency," he said, his disappointment sounding fake. "Your French friend dropped by, huh?" I retorted. "You caught me," he admitted with a laugh. Time to confront him head-on. "Sure thing! You'll probably postpone our interview to tomorrow morning. And then tomorrow morning, it'll be dinner because your Filipino friend arrived!" I accused. He chuckled. "You seem upset, Miss Martins." "I'm not falling for your games," I snapped, unable to contain my anger any longer. "If you're jealous, you can always ask me out," he taunted. "Like I'd ever date you!" I scoffed. "Goodbye, Mr. Ivanov. You wasted my time." I hung up before he could come up with a smooth reply. That bastard had not just wasted my time, money, and effort but also ruined my book deal! Men like him needed to learn a lesson. I was going to find a way to make Nikolai Ivanov wish he'd never stood me up.