Page 13 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

I gaped and flinched, unsure of what made me take a step backward: the intensity of his very musky cologne or the blatant rudeness accompanying his question. Taking my time, trying to catch my breath, I walked toward the couch positioned a few meters ahead of my desk and felt somewhat shielded when I collapsed on the plush cushion.

How old am I?

I grabbed my iPad and opened new notes for my Code Red client, Miron Yezhov.

Okay…I was going to give it to him. We’d yet to officially commence the session, but he was the most arrogant and disrespectful client I had ever encountered. No one, absolutely no one, had ever asked me that, but this cocky peacock of a man fired the question in my face without an ounce of reservation or respect.

“I’m….” I swallowed my pride, and it felt like digesting a pack of needles. “Twenty-four.”

“Hm.” He didn’t look impressed; he just nailed his gaze on me like a fierce hawk, clearly skeptical of my youthfulness and qualifications.

And sue me, I felt insulted.

“I guessed twenty, but I doubt an extra four years change anything. Amelia referred me here to waste my time.”

Had I felt insulted before?

If yes, now I felt a thousand times worse. Why did I have to prove anything to him?Hewas the one on the couch. The one that neededmyhelp—not that he would ever accept or admit that. But the public thought so.

“Sir, I can assure you that she didn’t. You might have your reservations, but I am trained and qualified to take this. Prima Care has your best interests at heart, and we are devoted and dedicated to providing quality professional services to all our clients, without prejudice or—”

“Sir?”

My mouth clamped shut, sealing the rest of my speech before I even had a chance to finish.

Understanding flickered in his eyes. Of course, he knew I’d gone through his file already and didn’t have to ask his age. It was part of my job.Duh.

But I didn’t mean to refer to him like that. It had accidentally slipped out, thanks to the unnecessary pressure he’d been mounting.

“What I meant to say was, Mr. Yezhov—”

“Being seventeen years ahead of you doesn’t make me old enough to be your grandfather.”

I kissed my teeth and avoided his gaze. He was intentionally trying to spite and rile me up, to justify his belief that I was too young and inexperienced to be seated before him. Regardless, I wasn’t going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing me frustrated. I told Amelia nothing would be too difficult to handle and had every intention of delivering on my word.

If he thought he could shake me and see me quake in my boots, he had another thing coming. This was my space, my office,myterritory. That meant I was in charge.

“Again, my apologies.” Crossing one leg over the other, the smile I fixed up was a lot firmer. “Time has already been spent. Let us properly begin, shall we?”

He didn’t say anything, and for the first time since I’d walked into my office to meet him, I finally had the opportunity to take charge of the conversation.

***

“Tell me, what do you hope to gain from these sessions?”

“What do I hope to gain? Honestly, before shit went sideways with Jeffrey, I didn’t even think I would everneedtherapy. But now that I’m here, isn’t the only thing to gain peace of mind?” came his sharp retort. “Isn’t that what therapy is for?”

I didn’t bother with an answer to his sarcastic rhetorical question; I just focused on penning down the necessary observations.

“Do you believe in mantras, Mr. Yezhov?”

All the way across, I heard the vexation in his baritone when he snapped back. “Do I look like a man who believes in mantras, Miss Sinclair?”

Sighing, I rubbed the spot between my eyes and looked away from my notes long enough to tell him, “Please, I’d appreciate it if I asked the questions here. I know this process is hard for you to adjust to; it’ll take a while. But in the meantime, I’ll implore you to be cooperative, and that means you have to give straightforward answers. Can you do that for me?”

Miron seemed taken aback, and something else flickered through his guarded eyes. We stared at each other long enough for me to spot the conflict denting his features. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished, and he still didn’t respond.

I took it as a go-ahead to move on to the next question.

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