Page 12 of Plus-Size Bratva Bride

“Oh, um, shit—“ she blurts out, the swear word seeming foreign on her perfect lips. Her cheeks turn bright red, and she stands staring at me with extremely wide eyes.

“Jade?” I say her name again, another warning.

“I—you—you were there at the shooting,” she says, looking like she is going to cry.

“And?” I step into the office, walking towards her and taking the piece of paper from her hand, setting it on the desk behind me.

I stare down at her and notice how she is shaking slightly.

“The Enzos are Bratva, um, mafia, and that means that you must be too, and if they are dangerous—“

My heart sinks.

She is trying to find out if I am more dangerous than them. She has a right to ask this question. I am mafia, and she is worried about how that affects her safety.

All of the anger dissipates from my body, my shoulders relax, and the stern look melts away from my eyes.

I smile softly, cupping her chin in my hand.

“I am mafia. My whole family is. But I assure you that we, at least, still kept our morals and respect, unlike some of the other groups.”

“So, you’re not going to hurt me?” her long lashes, as black as her hair, flutter upwards and her hazel eyes are locked on mine.

My heart constricts and without being conscious of it I tighten my fingers over her jaw.

“I will never hurt you, little starfish,” I whisper, pulling her face upwards and making sure she looks deep into my eyes so that she can see the truth of my words for herself.

“Starfish?” she whispers, her breath hot against my lips.

“As rare and as beautiful as they are, in bright reds and fiery colors,” I whisper back, leaning even closer, feeling the heat of her mouth almost touching mine, my heart beating harder than ever.

A second before I press my lips over hers, my phone rings loudly from my pocket and both of us jump in fright.

Fuck.

I told myself not to get involved with her like that. I’m supposed to be keeping her safe, not having my heart tugged towards her.

I clear my throat loudly and take a step away from her to try and create some distance between us as I pull my phone from my pocket.

Pressing it against my ear.

“Radmir,” I say sternly.

“Why do you sound so weird?” Rodion asks.

“I don’t—“ I say defensively. “Uh, what did you call for?”

“We are coming for dinner tonight.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Everyone except Rigor. He can’t make it. He’s too in love or some shit.”

I laugh. “Hey, give the guy space to enjoy that,” I reply.

“Seven?” Rodion asks.

“Takeout? I’ll order before everyone gets here.”

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