Page 49 of Bratva's Intern

I heard Bradley before I saw him. He had the posture of a man who’d worked long enough at Morozov’s to stop pretending to care. He often stopped for a chat, distracting me from my work, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him to drop by less frequently. Not after he’d been so nice to me.

“Week one and you haven’t run screaming yet?” He leaned on the edge of my desk with a grin.

I blinked up at him, plastering on a polite smile. It wasn’t that I disliked Bradley. He was a nice guy, but he tried too hard, and I had the feeling he was still trying to get me into bed with him and his husband. I wasn’t down for that.

“Not yet. Still figuring out if I’m brave or too dumb to quit.”

More like wanting to prove Maxim right. That I had what it took to be his PA. He had so much faith in me. Before I knew it, I was starting to believe he might not be wrong.

Why continue to be mediocre when I could be better? He thought I could be so much more, so for the first time in my life, I tried. And I liked the results. Sure, I messed up sometimes—okay, a lot—but Maxim never berated me for those mistakes.

His bark was worse than his bite.

Bradley chuckled. “If you’re not careful, Mr. Morozov will work you to death. This place’ll chew you up and spit you out without even bothering to wrinkle your name tag.”

I gave a small laugh. Neutral. Safe. I didn’t feel comfortable talking about Maxim with Bradley.Not really.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the hard work.”

“What are you working on?”

“Just reviewing the acquisition reports for the Preston Complex.” I angled the monitor toward him. “Trying to flag anything that might look off or, you know, need adjusting.”

Bradley raised a brow. “Morozov’s already got you double-checking quarterlies? You must be doing something right with the boss.”

Heat flared inside my stomach. “Or he’s testing how fast I crack under pressure.”

He walked around the desk and stood behind me, scanning the screen. “You’ve got this section duplicated here. Look.” He leaned down and tapped a line on the document. His arm brushed mine, and then his hand settled briefly on my back as he explained something about margin inconsistencies.

His touch wasn’t weird or lingering; it was casual. Friendly, even. But it felt weird being touched by someone I knew was attracted to me when I didn’t feel the same way about him. “Where’s the big boss anyway?” he asked. “He’s usually one of the first ones in, and it’s past noon.”

I opened my mouth.He had a doctor’s appointment,almost slipped out. But something told me I shouldn’t say that. Not to Bradley. Not to anyone. Maxim’s whereabouts were his business. I only knew about his appointment because I was in charge of his schedule.

“He’s out on business,” I said instead, keeping my tone breezy. “Should be in soon.”

Bradley brushed back strands of my hair from my face, the gesture absurdly affectionate for a guy I barely knew. “Look at you, already keeping secrets for the boss.”

The elevator dinged, and I snapped my spine straight.

Maxim walked in.

Sharp suit, dark gaze, the kind of presence that could make a room fall silent just by breathing in it. My stomach did that stupid flip thing it always did when I saw him. Especially since the incident in the conference room. I smiled, unable to stop myself, like some fool hoping for a nod or the faintest twitch of approval.

He didn’t smile back. Didn’t even look at me properly.

His eyes zeroed in on Bradley, who was still hovering behind me, fingers in my hair.

Maxim scowled, turned, and strode toward his office. The glass door slammed behind him so hard the walls shuddered.

Bradley snorted. “Who pissed in his Cheerios?”

I didn’t laugh. I couldn’t. My face felt hot, my fingers clammy on the keyboard. I wanted to tell myself I was imagining the tension. But I couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at Bradley’s hand on me.

I swallowed. “Thanks for your help, Bradley. I should get back to work now that Mr. Morozov’s here.”

The intercom buzzed.

“Wren, where the hell is my coffee?”

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