Silent Love Ch. 02


"Sorry, my name is Zoya. scared me there. I work for Mr. Bazin. And, cleaning...that is what I am doing here. I...I did not know anyone was coming here today. Mr. Kabinov said it would be empty on the weekends. You work for him too?"


"No, I mean Mr. Bazin," she said with a small hesitant smile as she tried to put a little space between them. Placing her cleaning supplies in the cleaning basket that she carried around the house with her she continued speaking. "Mr. Kabinov told me one of you guys would stop by every once in a while, but I guess I did not think it would be on my first day."

"hmmm..." Even the sounds he makes are sexy.

After a moment of silence with Dmitry analyzing her and not seeming to be in any rush to leave and get what he came for, Zoya spoke up as she moved toward a broom and a duster that were against the wall.

"Are you here to get Mr. Bazin something? You never said what your name was."


"Wow isn't that like the most common Eastern European name ever? What was your mother thinking? If I have a child I am going to name them one of the most unique and beautiful name I can find." She said all of this before she could bite her tongue. Great job Zoya, now you insult his mother and make the guy angry. You really know how to shoot yourself in the foot.

"I am sorry that just came out," she said turning around to find his arms crossed. "I kind of have trouble holding things in sometimes when I am is nice to meet you ... and it is a nice name. I like it. Do I know you? You look familiar." Hell she was rambling like an idiot now. He said nothing. Still not moving or speaking to her but his stare was kind of scaring her. She decided she was just being silly, there is no reason to be scared of him. He obviously works for Mr. Bazin or otherwise he would not have been able to get in. So she was completely safe. It was just that she never meet someone as handsome as he was, even Erik had nothing on this guy. She realized that was the reason for her nervousness, he was fucking gorgeous. As she started swiping around him he moved toward the center of the room and leaned back against one of the couches with his arm still crossed.

"I am very happy to be working here." She rambled off as he continued to stare at her quietly. "I mean not only is the money good, but it is also not far from where I live. I never actually heard of Mr. Bazin before I had the job interview. You like working for him? He seems too rich for one guy. Can you imagine all the people that could be feed and housed with just his wealth alone? I don't think I can handle being rich like him. I would feel too guilty having so much and some people having nothing."

"He worked for it. No one handed anything to him. Self-made-man, the Americans say. Why should he not spend it as he wishes?" He should speak all the time. His accent is so fucking hot, she thought.

"Nothing wrong with that I guess, but I still I don't want to be rich like him though I just want to have enough to be happy."

"Sometimes having enough is not enough to satisfy our desires for more. It is human nature to always want more."

"Nope, unlike him I know I will be happy with enough."

"How do you know anything about him? Did you not just say you never meet him?"

"I don't need to meet him to guess what kind of person he is. Look at this place. Mr. Bazin is just like other rich people. They want to have everything and anything that they can get their hands on, no matter who they hurt in the process."

"You sound like someone who has a prejudice against all rich people." Zoya laughed at that as she looked up from what she was doing.

"Maybe just a little through the social and economic inequality we have around the world can make you like that. Anyhow, you never told me what you were here for Dmitry."

"Just some things" Why does my name sound so good when she says it? He thought as he looked at her a few seconds before moving toward the door for the master bedroom. Dropping what she was doing Zoya ran past him and blocked the door with her body.

"You have no right to go into the master bedroom and come to think about it, I never saw an ID or anything to show you were who you say you are. Wait a minute and I will call Mr. Kabinov."

"Move. I am in a rush. You have already wasted my time running your mouth."

"I wasted your time?" she asked with a raised voice, pointing a finger at herself as she used her other hand to take out her cell phone. "It takes two to hold up conservation and it is not my fault you just stood there like you had nothing important to do."

"Move or I will move you." Holding up her hand to him in a sign for him to wait she put her phone to her ear as she waited for Mr. Kabinov to pick up. Moving closer to her he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up until she was eye to eye with him. In the process of lifting her up Zoya dropped her phone in shock and heard it make a sound as it connected with the floor as she tried to hold on to his shoulders to prevent herself from falling. As he moved her closer to his body she felt his breath on her face and her mind went blank for those few minutes he held her against him. He smelled so good was the only thing running through her mind when she looked into his eyes. She had to restrain herself from leaning down and put her face to his neck and breathing his sent.

She feels so perfect was the first thing that crossed his mind as he unknowingly fitted her body against his. He could not understand his resistance to letting her go. His mind was telling him to put her down and step away, but he could not seem to let go of her or stop bringing her closer to him until she was actually fitted against his body. His left hand moved from her waist to her neck as he touched the curly hair there. He never had a chance to touch a black woman's hair before and as he moved his hand around her bun he became fascinated with the texture. As he was about to move his hand from the back of her neck to her face he was brought back to reality by the noise coming from her cell phone. She was still dazed from his sudden movement and the contact of their bodies, giving him a chance to put her down fast and open his bedroom door without her realizing it or moving to stop him.

Zoya understood what happened only after he closed the door in her face and locked it. Both took deep breaths and leaned against the door wondering what had just passed between them. Remembering there was another way in the bedroom Zoya located her phone and ran toward the music room. As she ran into the guest room she dialed Mr. Kabinov once more. She heard a sound of a lock turning and realized that he had locked her out again. Why am I running to open the door, he is twice my size and could easily do me harm if he wanted to. I should be running away. But for some reason she could not explain she did not feel threatened by him. Hearing Mr. Kabinov on the other line she rushed to explain to him what had occurred. Mr. Kabinov said nothing until she finished telling him about the man who entered the apartment and locked himself in the master bedroom.

"What did this man look like?" He sounded a bit too calm for Zoya.

"Black hair, grey eyes, tall and Russian."

"Did he give you a name? What he is doing in the condo?"

"He said his name is Dmitry and that he was there to pick up something. Should I call the police sir?"

"The police are most likely not going to charge a man for breaking into his own condo young lady. If I were you and wanted to keep my job I would apologize and stay the hell away from Mr. Bazin as long as possible. He has a hot Russian temper, but a few hours should cool him down."

"I thought he was like old," she said annoyed at how well composed Mr. Kabinov sounded. She could not remember what she exactly said to him, but she knew she insulted her boss and had no idea how she was going to get herself out of the shit hole she buried herself in.

"Where did you get that idea from?"

"It does not matter now. I will call you later if I still have my job."

"Don't be dramatic and no matter what you do don't cry. Mr. Bazin hates people who cry."

"Ok, bye." Crying, definitely not the path to take. Besides, she was too angry at herself and him to do that. How can he just let her go on and on about what a sleazy rich guy he was without telling her she was talking about him. And what the hell was the matter with her that she just started speaking to some random stranger like he was her best friend. After taking a couple of deep breaths and pacing back and forth a few times, she finally got the courage to knock on the door. Hearing nothing from the room she knocked again. Guessing that he was probably in the bathroom, Zoya decided to go back to cleaning instead of standing there and waiting for him to answer the door.


Cleaning did nothing to lessen her worry. By the time he came out of his room she was already finished with everything, had put away the cleaning supplies and had already washed her hands. He found her sitting down in the living room with her head in her hands. Hearing him open the door she looked to find that he had changed in to a black suite with a matching black tie. He could pull off any look he wanted she thought. Business attire seemed to suit him and defined his status way better than the t-shirt and jeans. But, the jeans and t-shirt seemed more like his style. He was looking at his iPhone for about five minutes standing next to the bedroom door he did not even seem to remember that she was there. After waiting for him to address her for a few minutes, she got off the couch and started walking toward him.

"Mr. Bazin, I know I said some things and insulted you. I am so sorry." She finished as she came to stand right next to him. He was still on his phone and did not say anything to him. "Am I forgiven? I still have my job, right?"

"No, make sure no one notices you while you are there."


"hmmm. Call Boris with a report when you are done," Dmitry said as he turned off the Bluetooth device in his right ear. He took a few seconds to finish what he was doing on the phone, which Zoya guessed to be an email or a fucking long text because he was still taking his time ignoring her. He was going to make her beg. Shit, she needed this job.

"I am sorry, really sorry. Do I still have my job, sir or what?"

"What are you willing to do to get it back?" He said to her looking up from his phone.

"What you mean?" She said as she took a step back to get a better look at his face.

"I mean how much do you value working for me? And what are you willing to do to keep working for me?"

"I am not that kind of person. What am I willing to do? Ha, it is not like I am being paid a four figure salary or anything?"

"You have no manners or a respectful bone in your body." he said shaking his head at her like she was a child and then walked around her and headed to the center of the living room.

"How old are you?" He asked taking a sit on one of the sofas.

"Why are you so interested?" She asked as she took the sit opposite him crossed her legs, sat back, and gave him an even look. If she was going to lose her job she may as well act like she did not care or was affected by anything he could say.

"I am not really."

"I am 22 years old. How old are you?"

"I am 35."

"Look like it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, you just look like your age. Did you not say you were late for something?" He did not answer that, but rather took out a cigarette, lit it, and continued to stare at her.

"Soooo.....since I still have my job I will see you later," she said getting up slowly from her sit and turning to walk out.

"I never said you still had your job."

"Fuck!" Maybe her act of defiance and casual disposition did not work she thought to herself before coming to a halt and turning back to him. Shit, what now she did this job, it would make her and her brother's lives much easier. After taking a draw from the cigarette he placed it in an ash tray on the table, stood up and looked down at her. Before he could say anything a woman walked in speaking Russian. She looked like a model, and walked through the door like she expected everyone inside to bow down to her. Dmitry never looked at her; he continued to look at Zoya for a few seconds before speaking softly so only she could hear.

"We will talk later." Walking to the front door he took the woman by the elbow and led her out shutting the door behind him without saying a word to her inquiries to who Zoya was. Zoya, assuming she still had a job, waved the past half an hour or so off and went home.

***To Be Continued***

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