Page 32 of Owned Bratva Bride
“Itisa government,” she confirmed, nodding.
I laid my utensils beside the plate.
“Are you full? So soon?”
“I’m afraid so,” I drawled, sighing.
She moved to carry the tray when I spoke.
“I could use the company for a bit.”
She smiled, sitting back.
“You’re aware that they no longer lock your door, right? You can always come to the kitchen, meet the others, interact a little with younger people like yourself, not an old lady like myself.”
“Of course, I was out the moment I heard the door unlock.” Memories of my brief but heated moment with Eduard last night filled my mind again. “Maybe staying here is safer for me. Who knows how many Mafia men are lurking around?”
“No, they won’t hurt you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Except one person in particular.
“I hear you.”
“You could even have your meals in the kitchen with us or in the dining room. Sir Eduard rarely eats at regular times; you don’t have to worry about running into him.”
“I’m not worried about running into him,” I argued.
“Really?” she asked, a knowing smile on her face.
“I’m not scared of him.”
I’m just scared of what his presence can do to me.
“Even his men are scared of him; they melt with just one look from him. And these are men that can take bullets out of their own bodies.”
I shrugged. “Are you afraid of him?”
“I barely have any contact with him.”
“See? And you’re a woman, just like me.”
After another few minutes, Agatha left my room, not without eliciting a promise to step out soon from me.
I hadn’t reached the bathroom door when I heard another knock.
I stood frozen mid-step, tongue-tied.
Eduard?
“I’m coming in,” a masculine voice called from the other side of the door.
That was definitely not Eduard’s voice. I had only heard it twice, but the depth it carried was unmistakable.
“Hi,” he greeted, closing the door behind him but remaining in the entryway.
It was the guy who always ushered Agatha in when my door was still locked.
“Hi,” I answered, instinctively walking over to the edge of the bed.
