Page 28 of Baby for the Bratva

It’s hurts a little to think about how easy it’s going to be to get rid of him once I start unloading all the negativity, but that’s how it always is. Either you keep your mouth shut and pretend like the world has been chocolate and butterflies to you since you were born, or you tell the truth and get turned away like you’re damaged goods.

My life hasn’t even been that bad, but Tyler would constantly put me down if I even said one thing about my past. I couldn’t talk about anything to him without him getting upset and saying I was bringing him down.

More of the same from Yuri, I expect. How can a man who only sees me as a tool for his sexual gratification not be turned off by me turning out to be a human being with struggles, pain, and emotions?

Of course, I’d like to think he’d see past all that, but I’m not getting my hopes up.

Another half hour goes by before I finally work up the courage to get up from my chair. Yuri is pretending to be asleep beside me, but I see him flinch when my shadow falls across his face. “Hey, I’m going for lunch. It’d be a shame if you missed it.”

His eyes open immediately, and he jumps out of his chair. “Let’s go.”

I want to laugh at the way he’s behaving, not because it’s childish and over the top, but because it’s genuinely sweet. Why is he so excited about having lunch with me?

I try not to think too much of it as I follow him back to the cool interior of the cruise ship, throwing on a rainbow polka dot cover-up that matches my suitcase.

I love polka dots. Even better if they’re an assortment of colors. It all started when my dad bought me some rain boots that were white with colored polka dots on them so I could jump in the puddles after the storm. I was always scared of thunderstorms until then. Now I look forward to them and smile when I think about how my dad was able to change everything with rainbow polka dots.

See, that’s a good man right there. Not like Yuri, who thinks with his dick and believes that wearing a fancy watch and buying me lunch is going to impress me. It takes a whole lot more than that, and he wouldn’t even begin to understand why.

“Lobster,” Yuri grunts as we enter one of the dozens of seafood restaurants on the cruise ship. He’s still wearing just a tiny pair of shorts, and I’m convinced his caveman attitude and lack of clothing are going to get us thrown out immediately.

To my surprise, however, the host looks at him and nods. “For two, I assume.”

He nods, slipping a hand around my waist and pulling me close to him. “A private table, if you can.”

“We have one upstairs for you,” the host says, smiling with his eyes as he nods for us to follow him.

I look up at Yuri as he leads me forward. I’m a bit confused. Does he know the host? Perhaps even the owner of the restaurant?

“I’m surprised they let you in without a shirt. Seems like too nice of a place,” I whisper to him, digging for information.

“Shirts are for when they don’t want to see your saggy old body,” he replies. “I’m not that old yet.”

I laugh. “Surely, that’s not the only reason they let you in without one.”

“Try it,” he says with a scheming smirk.

I give him a look of annoyance, but I’ll admit he’s kind of funny. Inappropriate and juvenile, perhaps, but still funny.

“I’ll give you a moment to look at our drink menu, and someone will be here to take your order shortly,” the host says, pulling out a chair for me as Yuri sits down.

“Thank you,” I say, taking my seat across from Yuri.

We’re the only people in a small, candlelit room that has black velvet upholstery and an enormous painting of a white whale on the wall.

It looks to be a VIP section. Does that make me an important person?

“They have a wonderful selection of wine here, if you’re into that sort of thing. Otherwise, it’s cocktails all the way,” Yuri says, holding up a narrow menu and running his finger down the list. He arrives on one, tapping it a few times. “I’ll be going with the Abrau-Durso. Nothing too fancy, but it does remind me of home.”

“Russia?”

He nods. “Cold as hell, but pretty in its own way. A lot of beautiful architecture and history.”

“How long have you been away from home?” I ask, eager to dig into his life. I don’t want this to come off like an interrogation, but I feel like I’ve passed judgments on him without really knowing who he is. I need to know more to figure out if my judgments have been correct.

Yuri puts his menu down, rolling his shoulders a few times before answering me. “Twenty years since I left Russia. I’ve been back a few times, but they don’t like me there. Not terribly safe for me anymore.”

“That’s pretty intense,” I say, my eyes widening at his admission. “Any particular reason why?”

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