Page 127 of Bratva's Intern

“You’re one of Maxim’s guys?”

He nodded once. “Yes.”

“Since when have you been following me?”

Viktor looked mildly confused. “When? Today?”

I stared at him, my stomach dropping. “Wait. Have you been following me for longer than today?”

He didn’t answer. Which was, honestly, answer enough.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face. “I mean, I get him insisting that I need a driver, but this? This is going too far. What am I, the Crown Jewels?”

Viktor looked vaguely apologetic. Or maybe that was just the default face they gave all terrifying men of mystery. “It’s for your safety.”

“I just went to the salon.”

He didn’t respond to that, just shrugged as if to say it wasn’t his problem. He was just doing a job. Just carrying out Maxim’s instructions.

Maxim.

He was the one to blame.

I sighed, already walking again. “Whatever. At least walk next to me. You almost scared me to death. Pretty sure that’s not in your job description.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to stay too far and risk losing you. Mr. Morozov made it clear I had no chance at screwing up.”

“Or else what? He’d fire you?”

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “I wish.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. We should get back to the office quickly. You shouldn’t have walked on your own. Mr. Morozov won’t be happy.”

“Good, because I’m not happy with this either!”

He fell into step beside me like a silent shadow, and I hated how oddly reassuring it felt to have him there after being scared out of my wits. Still, the whole thing itched. Maxim hadn’t said anything about assigning me a guard.

No “by the way, I’m having a stranger tail you like a low-budget spy thriller.”

Nothing.

Who does that?

When we reached the office building, Viktor held the door for me. Nice manners for a stalker.

“You sure you want to go up?” he asked. “Mr. Morozov’s still in his meeting. In fact, why don’t I take you home?”

“I’m sorry, but I won’t get into a car with you. I don’t know you.”

“You just walked a block with me.”

“Because you didn’t leave me a choice. And you bet Maxim will hear about that from me! I’ll wait for him to finish his meeting.”

The elevator doors closed, and I leaned against the coolmetal wall, pinching the bridge of my nose. What the hell was I doing?

I could’ve gone home. Put on that scrap of lace Maxim wanted me in and wait for him lying on the kitchen island with whipped cream on my nipples.

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