Page 62 of Bratva Prisoner
“For trusting me with this. For staying. For being brave enough to let yourself want something good.”
She reaches out and touches my face with fingers that smell like the massage oil she used on my shoulders. “Thank you for catching me when I jumped off that shipping container.”
“Thank you for jumping in the first place.”
We sit there looking at each other, both of us aware that something fundamental has changed between us tonight. The attraction has always been there, but now there’s something deeper—understanding, trust, the beginning of real intimacy.
“I should probably let you get some sleep,” she says eventually, though she makes no move to get up.
“Stay with me tonight,” I hear myself saying. “Not for anything physical, just… stay. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t think you do either.”
“Maksim…”
“Just to sleep. I have a huge bed, and after today, I think we could both use the comfort of not being alone.”
She bites her lower lip while she considers the request, and I hold my breath waiting for her answer. Finally, she nods.
“Okay. Just to sleep.”
“Just to sleep,” I agree, though we both know it means more than that.
Chapter 18 - Alyssa
Sleeping in the same bed as a dangerous man should terrify me, but waking up in Maksim’s arms feels like the safest place I’ve ever been.
His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek in a steady rhythm that’s become as familiar as my own heartbeat over the past week. We’ve maintained this careful dance of intimacy without crossing lines—sharing his bed for comfort, not sex, though the tension between us grows stronger each night.
“Morning, kitten,” he murmurs against my hair with a voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” I tilt my head to look at him, noting the way dawn filters through the curtains and sends shards of gold across his face. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in years.”
The honesty in his admission makes my heart flutter in ways I’m still learning to accept. These past days have created a routine between us that feels surprisingly domestic—shared meals, quiet conversations, stolen moments of closeness that never quite tip over into something more.
His phone vibrates on the nightstand, interrupting the peaceful moment. Maksim reaches for it to check the display like he’s looking for a crisis.
“Dmitri,” he answers before the third ring, “what’s the situation?”
I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I watch Maksim’s face change from relaxed to alert in seconds. Whatever his brother is telling him isn’t good news.
“How many?” Maksim asks, sitting up now. “When…? Right. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
He ends the call and turns to me with regret written across his face. “I have to go to the docks. There’s been an incident with one of our shipments.”
“What kind of incident?”
“The kind that requires immediate damage control before it becomes a bigger problem.” He climbs out of bed and reaches for his clothes. “You should stay here today. This might get messy.”
“I want to come with you.”
“Alyssa—”
“I’m part of this now, remember? You said so yourself.” I throw back the covers and stand up. “Besides, hiding here won’t make me any safer if things really go bad.”
He studies my face for a long moment, probably weighing the risks of bringing me along against the risks of leaving me behind. Finally, he nods once.
“Get dressed. And wear something you can move in if necessary.”
