Page 71 of Sexting My Bratva Boss
The words land like a slap.
"What?"
Audrey takes a breath. "I knew Duscha hated me. She didn’t exactly hide it, Konstantin. I knew she was watching me like a hawk. So, I stopped hiding the mistakes. I left the line items exposed. I let her find it. Because I knew she’d go straight to you."
I stare at her.
"You wanted me to catch you."
She nods, and I want to laugh, smirk, kiss her until she can’t breathe. Instead, the careful mask I’ve perfected over the years slips over my features: I feel it, as if it’s a real thing. Audrey’s eyes search my face.
"I know it was suicide, but I needed a way out. Sal wouldn’t let me quit. He wanted more access. He wanted everything. The only way out was through."
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
"So, you played me."
"I trusted you," she says. "Even then. That you'd know what to do."
The silence between us turns into something dangerous. My fists clench.
I want to shake her. I want to kiss her. I want to scream.
Instead, I stalk to the window and stare out at the streetlights. "I lost two men this morning," I say, without turning.
She says nothing.
"Yuri and Sava. Killed in a cooler. Died slow."
When I finally glance back, her face is pale.
"That’s what I was dealing with when Olena came into my office. Not that I owe you that explanation."
Audrey doesn’t blink. "You think… Sal…?"
"I’m beginning to think I underestimated him. A deadly mistake, in my position, but when I met you Audrey—when all I knew was that you owed a debt to him… I thought it was jealousy motivating him. Now, I think he’s out for more."
"But wouldn’t that mean that Giuseppe Sartorre…?" Her eyes widen in fear. “Are they trying to take you out?” she practically whispers, rushing to my side and getting on her knees. Her hands on my thighs are warm, a buoy in this dark night.
"No. I spoke with Giuseppe a few nights ago. He made it clear—Audrey, you cannot tell anyone else this." Her eyes promise me she won’t. “He made it clear that there is some kind of coup in his family, a group that has splintered off. They’re trying to pit us against one another. If it’s Sal?—”
“And he found the Petrovia files,” she breathes out. “I thought he was crazy when he threatened you, but with that information could he…?”
“He could. If I hadn’t caught him.”
For several long moments we sit in silence, my large hands covering Audrey’s. Her belly is pressed against my legs, and I feel a slight pressure, a slight flutter. Our eyes meet and she smiles. “The baby.”
All of a sudden I’m no longer drowning. I press my hand to the spot, waiting—and then it comes again.
A small kick.
I close the space between us, joining her and kneeling on the decadent rug. My hands gather her close. Our faces are inches apart.
“You still owe them money?”
Shame flashes across her face. She nods. “Yes. With interest.”
When her chin drops, I lift it back up with a finger. “Don’t be ashamed,” I murmur. “We all do what we have to in order to survive.”
