Page 23 of A Secretary for the Bratva Boss
The word detonates inside me.
I take her jaw, carefully—firm enough to hold her attention, gentle enough not to hurt. “Don’t ever use that word about yourself. Not in my presence. Not in your own head. You are moya. My future. And that kiss? It saved a life.”
She stares at me like she can’t figure out if I’ve lost my mind. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No. It’s practical.” My voice drops, dark and even. “Now every man on this floor knows what touching you costs. What looking at you wrong costs. What breathing in your direction without respect costs. I don’t need to drag some idiot to the roof by his neck later because he brushed your elbow in the hallway.”
Her anger falters. Her fear shows again—soft, vulnerable, unguarded—and I hate it. I’d burn this whole damn building down before I let her be afraid of me.
“This is too much,” she whispers. “I’m not ready for this.”
“Too late.” I kiss her again, taking the words out of her mouth. “I told you. There is no going back.”
I step away, letting her breathe again. She shakes, but she doesn’t run.
“Come here,” I say, shifting back into command. “We have other matters to discuss.”
She hesitates, arms crossed, but she moves anyway. She always moves toward me, even when she doesn’t want to admit it.
When she reaches my desk, I sit on its edge and draw her between my legs. Her warmth sinks into me instantly, loosening something tight in my chest.
“I lost it,” I murmur, my forehead touching hers. “You looked down. Looked away. I thought you were ashamed.”
Her head snaps up, outrage and confusion flaring at once. “Ashamed? Of you? Of what we did? God, Anton, no. Never.”
“Then what?”
“Scared.” Her voice trembles, small and painfully honest. “I didn’t want to look like the temp who slept with the boss.”
“You are my girl,” I growl, kissing her soft, then deeper. “That’s all that matters.”
Her resistance melts like heat licking through ice. “I can’t do this with you,” she whispers against my mouth.
“Yes, you can.”
“You’re a possessive, arrogant—”
I kiss the rest away before she can finish.
She pulls back just enough to complete the thought with her breath ghosting my lips. “Bastard.”
“Da.”
Her fight loosens. Mine sharpens. I grip her waist, lift her, set her on my desk.
"This isn't a joke, Anton. You can't just...claimme like... like a piece of property in front of your entire staff."
I'm out of my chair in a second, crowding her against the wall. She gasps, but she doesn't back down. "I can. I did. You are mine,malen'kaya. And I am not a man who hides hispossessions. Everyone in this building, from the janitor to the board, will know what you are. Who you are to me."
"And what am I? The boss's new whore?" she spits, and the word makes me see red.
I grab her jaw, my grip tight, but not painful. "You willneveruse that word. Not about you. You aremoya. You are my future. And that kiss? That kiss just saved a life."
"That's... insane..."
"Is it? Do you know what that kiss does? It keeps you safe. It tells every man on this floor that you are thePakhan'swoman. That looking at you the wrong way costs them a hand. That smiling at you costs them their teeth." I lean in, my voice dropping to a growl. "It means I don't have to take some idiot to the roof and dangle him over the edge for touching your fucking elbow."
"You... you wouldn't."
