Page 49 of Scarred Bratva King

His smirk widens, his gaze sharpening. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” The challenge in his voice spurs something reckless in me. Without thinking, I scoop up a handful of water and fling it at him, the splash landing perfectly across his chest.

For a moment, there’s only silence, the water dripping from his shoulders as he stares at me with mock incredulity. Then he surges toward me, water cascading around him in waves.

He’s too fast and I squeal, trying to backpedal, but there’s no escape. His hands find my waist, gripping me firmly as the water swirls between us.

“You’re misbehaving, Veronica,” he murmurs, his voice teasing, the hint of a growl making my stomach flip.

“Could say the same about you, wet boy,” I retort, trying to sound confident even as my heart pounds. I flick more water at him with a laugh, earning a deep chuckle that vibrates through his chest.

“You think that’s funny?” he asks, his tone mock-threatening as his hands tighten just enough to keep me from slipping away.

“Maybe,” I say, biting my lip to hold back a grin. “I think I’ve got you figured out by now, Maxim. All bark, no bite.”

He leans in slightly, his face mere inches from mine, and I can see the flicker of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, I bite,” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper. “You just haven’t seen it yet.”

He releases me, stepping back with a smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re getting braver,” he says, nodding toward the deeper end of the pool. “But you’re still not swimming alone. Afraid?”

I let out a huff, squaring my shoulders. “Not afraid. Just cautious.”

“Caution is good,” he says, his voice softening slightly. “But sometimes, it’s just fear wearing a mask.”

I pause, his words striking a chord somewhere deep inside me. “You sound like a fortune cookie,” I say, deflecting the moment with humor.

“Maybe,” he replies, his lips twitching. “But you know I’m right.”

Rolling my eyes, I step further into the pool, the water rising to my shoulders now. “Fine, philosopher. What would you know about fear?”

He watches me carefully, his expression unreadable. “Everyone’s afraid of something,” he says after a beat. “It can’t hold you back if you learn to tame it.”

He tilts his head toward me. “Come on, let’s try something.”

“What now?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as he gestures for me to follow him to the edge of the pool.

“I’m going to teach you something,” he says simply, hoisting himself out of the water with effortless strength.

His body gleams in the dim light, droplets sliding over hard muscle, and I find myself momentarily distracted. He grabs a towel and turns to me, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Enjoying the view?”

I snap my gaze back to his face, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “It’s alright,” I say with a shrug. “Seven out of ten.”

His laugh is deep and genuine, and he tosses the towel aside, motioning for me to follow him. “Out. Now.”

I haul myself out of the pool, water streaming from my body as I reach for my own towel. Before I can dry off, his hands are on my shoulders, gently guiding me to sit on one of the padded benches.

“Stay,” he orders softly, and there’s something in his tone that makes me obey without question.

I stiffen slightly as his hands move to my shoulders, but his touch is careful, measured. “What are you doing?” I ask, though my voice is quieter now.

“You’re tense,” he says simply, his thumbs pressing into the knots at the base of my neck. “Relax.”

I try to protest, but the words die in my throat as his hands work their magic, the tension melting away under his firm, skilled touch. His fingers move in slow circles, and I can’t help but lean into the sensation.

“This is unexpected,” I murmur.

“You could say thank you,” he teases, his voice warm. “But I’ll settle for that.”

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