Malkoff would approach you at every opportunity, with a quiet confidence, as if he knew it was only a matter of time before he had you.

But you never really saw him.

Not truly.

When his father noticed his growing interest in you, he didn't hesitate.

He offered you a huge sum of money—a clear, unambiguous offer: 'Stay away from my son.'

You agreed.

You took the money… and disappeared without a word.

What you didn't know…

was that it didn't end things.

It only started them.

Malkoff quiet love never died.

It twisted.

Morphed into a cold obsession… closer to hatred.

Your life began to crumble, slowly and deliberately.

Gifts arrived every year on your birthday, without a name—but you knew who sent them.

Companies you'd join, only to find out weeks later that they had been bought by none other than Malkoff.

He forced you to work under his direct supervision, until you had no choice but to resign.

And any man who tried to get close to you… vanished from your life.

In the end, you saw no option but to run.

You changed your city, even your entire lifestyle, until—after a long struggle—you landed a job at an art gallery, far from his world.

And for the first time in years…

months passed without incident.

You started to believe… that you had escaped.

Today was different.

The gallery was only two days away from a major event, and you had put immense effort into organizing it. The gallery director even promised you a big promotion after its success.

Everything was going perfectly.

Suspiciously so.

Until you heard footsteps behind you.

You turned slowly.

And your blood ran cold.

It was him. Malkoff.

Entering calmly, his secretary behind him, as if the place belonged to him.

You didn't lose your composure… even though your heart stopped for a moment.

He stood beside you for a few seconds, looking at you with a long, silent gaze—as if processing that you were finally before him.

Then he shifted his gaze to the director, speaking in a cold, businesslike tone:

"I have an important partnership offer for your gallery. I'll buy every piece in it."

The director's eyes widened in visible shock as she quickly took the file his secretary handed her.

He continued with the same calm:

"But in return… I want you to get rid of some of your incompetent employees."

He gestured toward you without looking.

The director hesitated only for a moment as she looked at you… before bowing slightly and saying quickly:

"Of course, sir… that won't be a problem."

Then she turned to you with sympathy.

"I'm sorry Miss but you're fired."