Page 6 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

“There’s abut, isn’t there?”

Amelia exhaled through her smile. “You need more experience.”

“I have qualifications, Amelia.”

“Experience,Hazel,” she reemphasized. “You might have the documents testifying that you’re overripe for recommendations, promotions, and whatnots, but experience speaks louder volumes. It makes your authenticity infallible. Serious cases require trust, and trust takes time.”

“And you trusted me from the first time you met me, didn’t you? You believed I could handle Meryl Peters, the woman who believed the government was watching her every move. If you didn’t, you’d have never given me that job. Or the one after that. Or the other thirty-nine jobs after that, and now, Mr. Harold Plumley.”

Dropping my pride, I scrambled closer, letting her see how much I needed this breakout. It didn’t matter that I was almost groveling on my knees; I wanted her to know that she could—

“—trust me, Amelia. You can trust me. I promise nothing and no one will be too difficult for me to handle. I’ve got this.”

To say she looked unbelieving would have been the understatement of the year, but when I watched a bit of her resolve chip off and a fierce glint of hope settle in her gaze, I remembered another thing I liked about her.

Amelia Greystone was a risk-taker.

“Fine. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do. If you say you’re ready, I’ll take your word for it. And if you mess up, Hazel.” She shrugged. “You’re out.”

A wave of happiness hit me like a tsunami. It didn’t matter that my stubbornness and determination could cost me a job I’d worked so hard to get. Knowing she would consider my request was more than enough for me.

Chapter 3 – Miron

“I don’t know what’s more fucked up: sitting here before a real-life judge, or watching the smirk on your face grow wider and wider.”

I peeled my eyes away from the boring brown-colored wooden structure where the judge sat tall, with her black robe draping over the bench. It was the center of attraction in the room—the center that thought it had the power to decide my fate. Such a comical relief to watch.

Meanwhile, Damir’s eyes held restrained anger when our gazes locked, and the storm in his matched the suit that fitted him perfectly. One of the many gifts I’d given him for his loyalty.

He flexed a muscle and clamped down his jaw before whispering. “Respectfully, why is any of this funny to you?”

At the left wing of the courtroom, Jeffery sat forward with a thick white bandage wrapped around his head, glaring intensely. The sight of his red, swollen face and childlike scowl was amusing. I wiggled my fingers and looked away.

“Do you see me laughing, Damir?”

If we weren’t in an ongoing court session, I just might have been wiping happy tears from my eyes.

“Fuck.” He blew out a breath. “Youknowwhat I mean. The evidence against you is irrefutable. You saw them, didn’t you? The number of eyewitnesses the prosecution had lined up, willing to testify. Miron,Christ.Jeffery is literally before the judge, wrapped in a fucking bandage. It’s even a miracle he survived that.”

Disinterested, I arched a brow. “And you are, what, happy he survived?”

“Happy?” He scoffed. “I’m fucking elated.”

I dismissed him with a small hovering smile, but apparently, courtrooms appeared to mess with Damir’s reign over his emotions.

“Aren’t you worried that things could turn south?”

Worried?

“Let me see….” I folded my arms across my chest, tilted back, and paused for a moment to ponder on his word choice.

I had to give it to him; for a man who could snap another grown man’s neck in fifteen seconds and of a dozen men with his fingers on the trigger and eyes closed, he’d maintained his capacity to care about the slightest details I considered insignificant.

Linking my fingers under my chin, I shook my head, and the smirk on my facedidgrow wider. “No, I am not. I’m not worried about anything. For men like me—like us—the system bends in our favor.”

Briefly burying his face in his hands, Damir scoffed. “Maybe, sometimes, I want your confidence. Do you know how many times I’ve almost shit my pants because of the possibilities?”

He was being sarcastic. My confidence had nothing to do with the way he looked at me like I was crazy. But I was used to it now; almost everyone thought I was a maniac. And maybe I was.

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