Khalid Bakhtiar.

The name rang through my head as I stepped outside a little while later, after I’d finished signing several documents to make my hiring official. I was pretty sure one of them had been a confidentiality agreement, but I could have been signing my soul over to the devil for all I knew. I’d been in too much of a daze to really comprehend it all.

I was still in that state as I climbed into my car and backed out of the drive, exiting onto the main road and leaving the manor behind me. It wasn’t until I was sitting at a red light further down Massachusetts Avenue that it finally hit me.

I’d gotten a real job.

I was starting on Monday.

And I was going to be working for a convicted murderer.

As soon as Mr. Rostami had said their new CEO’s name, I knew I should have told him thanks, but no thanks! Instead, I was now under contract to work for a man who had gone to prison for killing his adoptive father.

I’d read plenty of articles about the Bakhtiar family over the years and a handful more in the past few days. Amir Bakhtiar had been the CEO of PersOil since the mid-eighties, taking over after his own father had stepped down, and was responsible for turning it from a small company into the multinational corporation it was today. His ruthlessness was renowned, and rumors of underhanded business dealings had followed him through the years, although none had resulted in any sort of criminal charges. There was no denying that many of his practices were illegal, but with money came power, and Amir Bakhtiar had plenty of that as well.

However, the sheer degree of his brutality hadn’t been revealed until after his death nearly ten years ago. Apparently, the man been responsible for a plane crash that had killed his wife, brother, and sister-in-law, organized in part with a rogue faction of the Malikbahri government.

I’d found it darkly ironic that the country where Amir had ordered their plane to go down was the same one where he’d been murdered as well. It was even more ironic to know that he had died at the hands of his nephew, the son of his dead brother, whom he had adopted and raised as his own after the man’s death.

Khalid Bakhtiar had driven a knife into Amir’s back and watched as he bled out. Before news had come out about Amir’s past, the press had speculated wildly as to why his own adopted son would want to kill him.

Many latched onto the conspiracy that Khalid, who was being groomed to take over PersOil when Amir eventually stepped down, had killed him in order to get the position sooner. There was even a theory that claimed Khalid had been planning it for years.

But when the world learned that Amir was responsible for the crash and security footage leaked showing him acting violently against his daughter, it all made sense. The younger Bakhtiar had simply snapped.

Khalid had been sentenced to ten years in prison for the crime. At this point, he would have only been about seven years into it, and of all the articles I’d read recently, none had mentioned him being released from prison.

“I thought he was still, um, in Malikbahr,” I’d said to Margaret after Mr. Rostami had said who I’d be working for, trying to phrase it as delicately as possible to avoid offending anyone. And it was true, he was in Malikbahr, because that was where the prison was.

Though she had cut her eyes briefly to the interim CEO, she’d looked back at me with yet another painted-on smile. “He recently returned, but there are a few, ah, conditions to that. Either way, you’ll be working closely with Mr. Bakhtiar.”

That hadn’t eased my mind any, but I’d still signed everything she’d asked for. Whether I was going to regret that was yet to be seen.

Even as I made it home nearly an hour later, I still hadn’t completely come to terms with everything. Just the fact that Khalid Bakhtiar was out of prison was shocking enough, but the fact that I was going to be working directly for him… oh, God, maybe getting a real job wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.

As I parked in front of the house, it dawned on me that I was going to have to tell Dad everything, and I had the sinking suspicion that he wasn’t going to approve of my new boss.

Well, this is going to be a fun conversation.

I made my way inside a few minutes later and found him watching TV in the living room. When he noticed me standing in the doorway, he was quick to turn it off and focus on me, an excited grin lighting up his face.

“So?” he prompted, clasping his hands together. “How did it go?”

I at least managed to smile back at him. “I got the job.”

The joy on his face had my stomach churning, but it wasn’t until he struggled out of his chair to come hug me that I let my smile fade.

“I knew you could do it, Rosie-posie,” he laughed as he tugged me close. We stood like that for a few more seconds before he pulled back a little, keeping his hands on my shoulders as he stared down at me. “So, tell me more about the position! You said something about being an assistant to some CEO, right? I don’t think you mentioned the particular company, though.”

He was right, I hadn’t. I usually told Dad all the details of the job I was applying for, usually because he was the one who helped me prep for interviews, but this time I’d kept it close to the vest. I wasn’t sure why I’d done it, or if there was even a point to it, but I was beginning to see now that I should have prepared him for what I was about to reveal.

“I’m going to be the personal assistant to the CEO of PersOil.”

Dad whistled lowly, impressed. “Now that’s a big fish! I heard on the news the other day that their profit margins are through the roof, so they better be paying you the big bucks.” He shook his head then, seeming to think back on something. “Man, I remember when their last CEO was murdered by his own son. What was his name? Amir something…”

“Amir Bakhtiar,” I supplied, really wishing he hadn’t brought up the whole murder thing. Now there was really no avoiding it.

“That’s it! Anyway, who’s running the show over there now?”

I took a moment to slip from his grasp under the guise of needing to set down my heavy purse. “Mahmoud Rostami, Amir’s former right-hand man,” I answered, glancing away. “But he’s about to step down. I’m going to be working for their new one.”

“Oh? And who’s that going to be?”

I knew I needed to look my father in the eye when I said it, when I told him I was going to be working for a killer. It took every ounce of strength I had to lift my gaze to his, knowing the warmth in them was about to be extinguished.

“Khalid Bakhtiar.”

Just as I expected, Dad’s eyes went cold, his whole body seeming to freeze in place. “Now, I know you didn’t just say you’re going to be working for a murderer.”

“Dad, come on,” I sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know this isn’t the best situation, but it’s a real job with a great salary and amazing benefits. And honestly, if they were willing to let him out of prison—”

“Them letting him out has nothing to do with whether or not he’s safe for you to be around,” Dad scolded with enough force that I was tempted to step back. “You’re not taking that job, Rose. I won’t let my daughter work for a killer.”

I let my eyes slide closed for a moment as I tried to regain some composure. The last thing I wanted was to get into a fight over this, but I knew I had to stand firm.

“I’ve already signed the contracts,” I explained as calmly as I could manage. “I’m going to be working for him for at least a year, and then—”

“A year?” he spluttered. “No. Absolutely not! You’re going to call them right now and explain that you made a mistake, that you won’t be taking the job.”

“I can’t do that, Dad.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

When I didn’t answer, he let out a disgusted scoff and turned away from me, shaking his head.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe, Rose. No parent wants their child working closely with someone who is capable of such violence.”

I was tempted to make excuses at that moment—that Khalid had probably only killed in order to protect his adoptive sister and avenge the murder of his parents—but I knew they wouldn’t have made a difference. I understood where my dad was coming from, I really did. He was right, a good parent wouldn’t want their child to be put at risk like that… but what good opportunity didn’t come with a little risk?

Except the risk here is me possibly dying if the guy loses his temper again.

“I get that,” I said. “But Dad, this is the best chance for me to finally get some real-world experience and start to build my career.”

He lifted a hand waving me off. “You can build your career somewhere else. You’re not taking this job.”

His dismissiveness had me bristling. He’d never been like this in the past. Why couldn’t he understand that I needed this, that we needed this, that if I didn’t take this job who knew when the next one would come along?

“I’ve already taken it.” This time, I left no room for argument. I didn’t want it to have to be like this, and I could only imagine that he’d be upset with me for a while, but this was what I had to do. “I start on Monday.”

“Rose—”

I didn’t let him finish that thought, knowing I’d just get yet another lecture. “I’m going out.” I grabbed my purse again, turning back towards the door. “We can talk more about this later once we’ve both cooled off.”

He was still ranting as I left, taking care not to slam the front door behind me, but anger was slowly creeping up my neck.

Dad wasn’t wrong to be worried, but to tell me—someone who was fully legal and capable of making decisions herself—that I couldn’t take the job? That wasn’t okay.

But on the other hand, maybe he was right. Maybe it was a bad idea to work for a man who had killed before. Who was to say he wouldn’t do it again?

As I climbed back into my car, I pulled out my phone and tapped a familiar name, knowing I needed to get a second opinion on this. Whether I was going to listen to it or not… well, that was a different story.

“Chad? Do you want to get dinner?”

***

“I think I’m with your dad on this one,” Chad said as he scooped up a spoonful of gnocchi. “I don’t want you working for that monster either.”

After calling to see if he wanted to have dinner—strictly as friends, which he’d promised to respect—Chad and I had met up at my favorite Italian restaurant a few miles away from my house. It was a quaint place with whitewashed brick walls and a homey feel, but even if it had been a shack in a back alley somewhere, I would have gone just for their spectacular pasta and garlic bread.

“Come on, that’s harsh,” I scoffed before tearing into a piece of bread, taking out my lingering irritation on it.

“Harsh? The guy killed his father, Rose. That’s something a monster would do.”

I chewed for a couple seconds, trying to think of an adequate response. A majority of the articles I’d read were cautiously on the younger Bakhtiar’s side when it came to his crimes, reiterating how it looked like he was simply defending an innocent girl when he’d taken Amir’s life. But there were others who said he’d gone too far with it, that his punishment was deserved, and that he was a man to be feared. Chad was obviously on the latter side, but I still wasn’t sure where I stood.

I could only imagine what those who thought he was a monster would say when they learned he’d been released early. When I’d checked the news on my phone ten minutes ago, it hadn’t hit the press yet, but who knew how long that would last.

“Neither of us know what he’s really like,” I countered. “He could be a really nice person for all we know.”

Chad shot me an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe I’d be so naïve to think such a thing. I didn’t actually think this guy was some misunderstood teddy bear who just needed to hug, but I couldn’t discount the possibility that he wasn’t as much of an abomination as everyone in my life seemed to think.

“I guess you’ll find out what he’s really like come Monday.” Chad’s words were only slightly less bitter than my father’s.

“That’s the plan,” I chirped.

He blew out a breath, spoon clattering against his dish as he dropped it, reaching out to grab my hand instead. “Rose, you wouldn’t have to take this job if you’d just let me—”

“No, Chad. And my answer will always be no.” I pulled my fingers out of his grasp, wishing he would get this through his head as well. “I’m not going to let you support me like that.”

“Fine.” He put his hands up in defeat, though I was sure it was only temporary. However, when he leveled me with a stare far more intense than I’d seen from him before, I knew I needed to take his next words seriously. “I’ll make you this promise, though. If that man ever lays a hand on you, I’ll kill him myself.”

I considered rolling my eyes at the threat, but scarily enough, I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d try.

“Nothing is going to happen,” I reassured.

For both my sake and my future boss’s, I could only hope that it wouldn’t.