Page 52 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

He parted his lips and started to say something, a bunch of incoherent Russian, but suddenly stopped. And my iPad chose that exact moment to chime on the couch.

Building my courage, I sucked in a sharp breath, brushed past him, and picked up the ringing device. “Ten-thirty. Our time for today is up. Hopefully, we’ll see more progress on your charts in the near future. It wasn’t the smoothest session, but everything eventually comes to an end. Unfortunately, this is the end of yours.”

Miron’s eyes hardened. “And you want me to leave.”

If I blinked, I would cry. So, I flashed the most professional smile I could muster and gave a curt nod. “I want you to leave.”

He scoffed but didn’t argue, and in a flash, I saw his broad back disappear through the threshold before the door slammed shut. My resolve crumbled like stacks of wooden blocks, and the tears I’d been holding streamed down my face with no reserve.

Watching him walk away felt like a slow, agonizing tug on a drawstring, gradually tightening the knot of heartache and longing that had been crashing inside me. Deep down, I knew I wanted this man, more than any logic or rationality could explain.

And that scared me more than anything else.

Chapter 19 – Miron

“Is your brother on a mission or something? Why does he have so many startups?”

Alina walked gingerly beside me, with her long brown skirt flowing below her ankles, while the host, a man in a plain white dress shirt and vest, showed us to our table. An intimate table-for-two set up, with warm lights hanging over heads and a good view of the nearby beach.

I wanted to ignore her but instead found myself responding. “It’s not so many; it’s just seven. And each startup is for a different purpose. As for this one, the La Vine was commissioned fourteen months ago.”

“So, The Tavern is his newest startup?”

“No, the gym is. It was commissioned three months after The Tavern.”

“Damien started a gym?”

“Why so surprised? He’s talked about it for the longest time. I wonder what took him so long.” Distracted, I made to sit first, and she cleared her throat, eyeing her chair suggestively. I grunted before pulling it out and settling into mine.

“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly. “I know it’s not your thing, but it doesn’t hurt once in a while to see the gentleman in you.”

“There is no gentleman in me.” I signaled a wine steward and a waiter to place our order. “You already know what you’re getting yourself into by getting married to me, Alina. No need to pretend like you’re going to get a different package.”

“It’s not pretending. I’ve seen your sweet moments, remember?”

“Oh, really?” I dismissed the steward and waiter, raising a brow at her. “Like which ones?”

Alina laughed airily, her eyes twinkling under the lights, happy that I’d finally succumbed to her constant pleas to go on a date to La Vine. She looked pretty, with her black hair flowing below her bare shoulders and down the small sleeveless top she wore, and after a quick sweep, I waited for it, the small spark that started in the hollow of my chest and traveled between my legs. The spark that made me want her all those other times. But I felt nothing.

Seated across from me, she looked young and distant, almost like a first-time stranger. She started talking about the times I took her shopping and random days I’d sent gifts to her house.

Alina and I had been engaged for six months. Ivanova didn’t want the wedding rushed, so I was more or less under an obligation to take his daughter through a proper courting process. The outings, the gifts. ThePakhanhimself had reminded me to do those things that were needed. But I didn’t tell Alina that. I listened to her speak about moresweetmoments, which had more sexual content, before she ventured into praising my brother’s restaurant.

Alina blushed as she reminded me of the first time she made a random visit to my office, and I fucked her right there on my table. Then, she laughed.

And across the room, someone else laughed louder.

My senses were suddenly on high alert, and my eyes subtly scanned the room. I tried to focus on Alina’s words, tried to stay in the moment, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.

Hazel.

The sight of her hit me like a punch to the gut, as it always did. That spark, the one I’d searched for with Alina, lit up and rushed through my blood faster than nicotine. My heart skidded. After our last session in her office, I got Amelia to approve our subsequent sessions to be streamed. For three weeks, I participated online, with our videos turned off—based on my insistence.

I’d tried to stay away, to put the distance while keeping up with the participation. It was hard, but at least I didn’t have to see her.

Well, life had a way of playing cruel, sick games, because now, I did. And she was still so fucking perfect.

Effortlessly beautiful, as she’d always been, with the way she held herself: so poised, confident, graceful.

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