Page 5 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

“Put it exactly the way it is. I’m listening.”

And that was the problem: Amelia Greystonewaslistening. Every fiber of her being was paying rapt attention, especially with those intense eyes that bore deep into your soul, just waiting for one wrong slip-up before she could claim it.

Beads of sweat dotted the edges of my hairline, and I began to find it a bit difficult to breathe.

“I…gosh, I—I can’t continue like this.”

Phew!

There! I said it, didn’t I?

It wasn’t so hard, was it?

Oh, it was. And technically, I didn’t say anything.

Amelia looked even more confused, and the haze clouding her features was more intimidating. “I don’t understand you. You say you love your job, but you can’t continue? Are you…? Is this an oral resignation?”

“God, no!” My hands flew to my chest to calm my racing heart, and I let out a nervous chuckle. “I amnotquitting this job. I’m just saying I’m tired of feeling stuck on this level. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy working with the elderly and helping them overcome their traumas and…stuff. That’s practically my job, right? To help them. But—”

“But?”

“Amelia, I need a challenge. It feels like I’m repeating kindergarten with each one of them that walks in through my doors with the same or similar story.”

Now, I’d said it.

And Amelia heard the desperation and plea in my voice. She straightened up and ran her fingers through her hair.

“A challenge?”

“Yes, a challenge. Something more…moregroundbreaking,if I must say. I need a hard nut to crack. I desire to have arealbreakthrough with a person that society looks at as impossible to fix.”

“And Mr. Harold Plumley isn’t challenging enough?”

Puh-lease.

“Challenging enough?” I almost scoffed in her face. “His cat’s conspiring to harm him? Hiscat.Some extra playtime and fish biscuits will rekindle their relationship just like that. And a few weeks ago, I had to console a client who was too scared to bring our sessions to a final close. She was scared to leave me.”

Amelia’s perfectly lasered eyebrows perked up, and I realized she was waiting for me to continue.

I sighed. “That was the problem: getting overly attached to things and people she likes. Now, imagine the extent of what I had to deal with when she started therapy. The point is, I can’t. I cannot keep up with that. Trust me, I’m ready for the next level.”

She smiled at me, and the warmth in it reminded me of my session with Harold. I shuddered. I didn’t need fake pity.

“Hazel, look. You’re fantastic. You’re great, actually. The first time I saw you, I liked you. The clients share similar thoughts….”

She was stalling; that much was clear. The real message had not been delivered yet, and that was what I patiently waited to hear.

“It’s just—”

“It’s just what?”

Amelia held my gaze, like a doctor preparing herself to deliver bad news. “You’re young.”

“Great! Never knew being twenty-four would one day be a death sentence.”

She didn’t believe I was ready.

“No, hear me out. I’m not only referring to your age. I’ve been where you are before. I know what it feels like to believe you’re ready for something bigger. But you have to understand that these goofy lighter cases are all part of the process for you to become stronger in this field. No doubt, you’re gifted. You’ve got the instincts and the art. Sometimes, I find myself wanting to learn your methods.”

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