Page 44 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
Sadly, he’s right. I can’t be the reason Mr Tanaka will have the company he started twenty years ago and worked so hard to build up pulled out from under him by Ulysses Zakynthos. Letting that happen would make me no better than the predator sitting at the other end of the table, watching me. He doesn’t care about Mr Tanaka’s company or about Mr Tanaka himself. He just wants what he wants, and currently that’s me.
There’s a selfishness to it that reminds me of my mother and how, when she was bored with a place, she moved on and dragged me with her, no matter what I had to say about it. Only her whims and desires mattered, never mine, and she made sure I knew it.
Whatever, I don’t like being used in that way, so, keeping my voice calm and cold, I say, ‘Would you excuse us a moment, Mr Tanaka? I’d like to speak to Mr Zakynthos alone.’
I start to rise, intending to leave the office, but Ulysses doesn’t move from his chair, watching me with open amusement in his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling as if he’s enjoying my discomfort.
Instead, it’s Mr Tanaka who gets to his feet. ‘Stay,’ he says to me. ‘You can speak to Mr Zakynthos here. I’ll go back to the Christmas party and make sure the staff are behaving themselves.’ It’s clear he’s desperate to get out of this hideously awkward situation, so I don’t protest, sinking back down in my chair instead. Only to face the wolf at the other end of the table, still staring at me as if he’d like to eat me alive.
The door closes behind Mr Tanaka and my heartbeat gathers momentum. Silence falls and tightens as Ulysses Zakynthos lounges down one end of the meeting room table, completely at his ease.
‘You’re being very persistent, Mr Zakynthos,’ I say finally, giving no hint of my anger. ‘These days most men understand that when a woman says no, she means no.’
The dark half-smile curling his mouth doesn’t fade. ‘True. And if I thought you were totally uninterested I’d get up and leave right now.’
‘Iamtotally uninterested. That’s why I refused you six times. I am also married.’
‘Firstly, you’re not totally uninterested. Secondly, you left your husband six months ago, correct?’
Shock ripples through me. How does he know that? It’s not a state secret that I left John, but it’s not something I like to talk about either.
Initially I thought our marriage was happy—at least the first year of it was. John treated me like a queen and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me. It was only towards the end of the first year that the little criticisms started. Not much at first, just comments about how he’d like me to be at home more, and wished my job wouldn’t take up so much of my time. Then he started to make comments about my bluntness, my need for honesty, my social awkwardness, and how he wished I wasn’t so ‘uptight’. He thought my little collection of special items I’d accumulated over the years ‘cluttered up’ our apartment, and that I needed to be more interested in what he was interested in.
I should have read the signs back then, and should have known what he’d turn out to be, but I didn’t see any signs and I didn’t know. I thought he was saying those things because he loved me. But I was wrong.
Anyway, as the shock ebbs, more anger rushes in to take its place. ‘How do you know that about John?’ I ask, because there’s no point denying it.
Ulysses lifts a careless shoulder. ‘I have my sources.’
‘Well,’ I say. ‘Your sources are wrong. My husband is out there right now, at the Christmas party. And he wants me back.’
It’s true. John arrived about half an hour before Ulysses did, apologising to me for his behaviour that made me leave, telling me that he’d made a terrible mistake and that he still loves me. Except I know now that he’s a liar and six months without him has made me realise that it wasn’t so much a marriage for me as a prison. And he held the key.
I married him because he seemed steady, stable and honest, the complete opposite of my mother. He told me he’d take care of me, that he’d support me, that he’d never let me down. But he didn’t do any of those things.
He broke my trust and I will never give it to him again.
‘You mean that man you were talking to?’ Ulysses drawls.
‘Yes.’ I put my hands flat on the table, ready to push myself to my feet. ‘So, if you don’t mind, I need to—’
‘Actually, I do mind,’ he interrupts in the same casual, careless tone. ‘And my request stands.’
‘Your “request”?’ I let disdain coat the word. ‘You mean, your ultimatum.’
He nods, again without a hint of shame, and again I can’t help but admire the way he’s so straightforward about it. ‘Indeed. An ultimatum it is.’
‘So, what?’ I demand. ‘You’re going to blackmail me into bed?’
‘It’s not blackmail, my ice queen, it’s leverage. Also, you should know that the only women I have in my bed are women who want to be there. So, if and when it happens, you’ll be there because you want to be.’
No matter what I think about his honesty, it’s his arrogance that gets under my skin and burns. I run into a lot of arrogant men in my line of work—finance is a very male-dominated space—and they’re often difficult to deal with. So you have to be very blunt, very clear and very firm otherwise they’ll walk all over you.
Luckily I have no problem doing that, and I’m certain Ulysses Zakynthos is that kind of man. He’s used to being listened to. Used to giving orders. Used to deference. Used to getting his way.
Well, he won’t get that from me, no matter how many ultimatums he gives me.
‘If you’re wanting an answer now,’ I say, ‘Then how about this one? No, I will not give you some of my precious time. In fact, I will not be giving youanyof my precious time at all.’
