Page 60 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

His lips curled downward the edges, the ghost of a frown. “You’ve come to a conclusion about me, then? Because of what you saw in the club?”

I allowed my gaze to dance on everything else but him, a heavy weight settling in my stomach. I had come to many conclusions about him. That he was cruel in a way that went beyond mere action. For a man to prepare to kill another without batting an eyelash, that cruelty had to be in his very nature. That he dissected people like they were puzzles meant to be solved, not individuals with feelings. That the coldness in his eyes wasn’t something I could thaw, no matter how much I tried to understand.

“I don’t think you need a therapist,” I said finally. “You need something else. And I can’t give it to you.”

“You think I’m crazy.”

“And would that be such a bad thing? Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve said that about you.”

His fingers tapped lightly against the chair’s armrest, a gradual, deliberate rhythm that mirrored the ticking clock. “But the other times you said that, you hadn’t seen what I was capable of.”

“I would rather not talk about what happened last Friday, Miron.”

“I know, but you sound afraid.”

I flinched. Not outwardly—no, I’d prepared myself too well for that—but something inside me recoiled.

Was that what this feeling was? Fear?

I thought the very reason I was putting an end to the sessions was because I wasnota coward.

I lifted my chin. “I’m not afraid of you.” A half-truth. I wasn’t afraid of him in the way most people would be. But I was afraid of what he represented: that void, that depth of cruelty I would never fully understand.

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Liar.”

I forced myself to hold his gaze, to keep my breathing steady. This was why I had to let go. How easily that sad laugh of his plucked the strings of my heart, conflicting me even more.

I reached for a notepad on my lap, tearing out the last page. “This is my final recommendation,” I said, waving it in the air. “I’ll be handing it over to Amelia, so I suggest you prepare yourself for someone else.”

He didn’t look at the paper. Didn’t even reach for it. Instead, he studied me and sprung up to his feet.

My pulse skipped as I watched him slide his hands into his pockets. “Hazel. I’m going to tell you something not a lot of people know. And I’m not telling you to evoke pity. After I’m done, I’ll walk out that door, and you will never have to see me again.”

I had seen sides of Miron before—the cold man beneath the suit, the guarded and snarky client, the man who hated therapy but looked out for his therapist.

But this? This was new. The tension that usually braced his shoulders was gone, and the ice in his gaze melted, leaving behind a transparency that had never been there before. His eyes had no walls now. Just exhaustion. Just truth.

“My life and yours, they’re not the same. They can never be. Our worlds are apart in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. You’re like the light, and I’m the darkness. And it’s not something that can go away when you wish upon a star; it’s who I’ve been for a very long time.”

I kept my legs crossed and focused on him to silence the pounding in my ears.

“I work for a very powerful man who controls a tight network of powerful and dangerous people.” He arched a brow. “You ever heard of the Mafia?”

Reluctantly, I nodded, not sure where he was going.

“Well, I’m a part of the Russian Mafia, as absurd as that might sound to you. I don’t regret being a part of it; it’s the only life I’ve ever really known and am comfortable knowing. We’re not saints, Hazel. We have our limits when it comes to hurting innocent men, women, and children. But when we need to eliminate threats, we do it with our eyes open.”

I was reaching for my bottle, trying to move past the part where he saidMafia,and I reminded myself that, before I let my emotions rule, I was first his therapist.

So, I maintained my professional composure.

“I’m taking my time to explain what—whoI really am to you. Ascrazyas it is, I want you to have a clearer picture. You see those men in my office? They stole from me, double-crossed me, and ratted me out. And Jeffery Smith? The man’s a fucking snake. I won’t go into the details, but I’m telling you for a fact that I gladly hurt those who deserve it.”

He chuckled, but there was no humor. “You know, I’ve killed a man before. In fact, I’ve killed quite a number. But only one death is of significance to me.

“My father was always an animal. I don’t think I’d ever seen him be anything else. Violence ran through his blood, and he always took it out on us: me, my brother, and my mother. You know when I told you I learned how to give compliments years ago? That’s because the pig never has anything nice to say to her.

“I was fourteen,” he continued, voice devoid of emotion, like he was simply stating a fact. “I wasn’t sure where he’d been, but he came home wasted. He always did, but that night was worse. My mother was in the kitchen. She never fought back, just took it. But I knew…I knew he was going to kill her this time if I didn’t stop him.” His jaw tightened. “So I did. I stopped him.”

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