Page 31 of Baby for the Bratva

I can’t even taste my food with the thought of Tyler in my head. Stella won’t tell me his full name for fear of what I will do to him, but I’ve already decided I must know. I will have Chekhov find out for me, and then when we finish our cruise, I will find Tyler and make him pay for what he did to Stella.

She doesn’t deserve that, and he’s insane to have done it to her. What kind of man cheats on a woman so pure and innocent? I have to hide my rage from Stella so she doesn’t think I’m insane, but it’s bubbling deep inside me, even as we continue talking.

“So, moving on from my tragic past, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of relationships,” Stella says as she separates the meat in her lobster tail.

I shrug. “I don’t like dating.”

“No? A second ago, you were all about loyalty.”

“I am loyal, but there are few women worth being in a relationship with. Plus, my work takes most of my time. I find that most women can’t handle that kind of lifestyle.”

She looks at me and pauses for a moment. “What kind of work takes you on cruises? Do you work on the boat or something?”

“Something like that,” I reply, keeping it vague. I’ve already revealed enough about my past life of crime. She took it well, but I suspect that telling her I’m still involved in the drug trade would be too much for her.

That’s the real reason I can’t have a relationship. I don’t like hookups as much as I crave having someone by my side at all times, but it’s not possible. I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work.

Women who fall in love with Bratva bosses are all materialistic or evil. Ask me how I know…

“You have to tell me what you do for a living. I’m interested,” she says, leaning so far forward that she nearly knocks over her wine.

I shake my head. “Boring stuff. Logistics for international companies.”

It’s not quite the truth, but it doesn’t feel like that much of a lie either.

She pouts. “Yeah, not very exciting. I was hoping to hear more about your drug trafficking business.”

Damn, she’s hitting a little too close to home, even if she’s joking.

I dig into my lobster, pulling meat out of the tail and dipping it in clarified butter. I still can’t taste anything but the metallic bitterness of anger in my mouth from what Tyler did to her. How could a man waste the opportunity to have a happy life with such a perfect woman?

“I have more questions, if you don’t mind me asking,” Stella says. She’s already finished her food, and now she’s going for the wine.

I can barely touch mine. I don’t know why it bothers me so much that someone didn’t treat her right, but it does and I’m concerned by how I feel.

This is weakness. The Bratva doesn’t tolerate weak men.

“Ask me anything,” I say, faking a smile. “I’m an open book.”

“What do you really want from me?” she asks, challenging me with her eyes. They’re sharp and vibrant, reminding me of a crisp winter day in Russia.

I nearly choke on my food. I slam my fist into my chest a few times, buying myself some time to come up with an answer that’s not going to end with her slapping me and leaving in a whirlwind of anger.

“I just want to get to know you,” I finally say, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as I can muster. “Is that so wrong?”

“Not wrong, just not true,” she replies softly.

“What makes you think that?”

She laughs silently through her nose. “You’re charming, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“Okay, then I’ll be more honest,” I say, leaning in so close that the air in the room grows thick with tension. I lower my voice down to a whisper, and I can see her pupils expanding as I speak. “I want your legs on my shoulders and your nails dug deep into the skin on my back. I want to look into the mirror the next morning and see marks, and then I want you to add more.”

Her bottom lip drops down just a centimeter as her lips part. She’s speechless, but it’s too soon to go for a kiss. I want her to think about what I just told her first. I want her to crave me the way I crave her, and only then will I claim her.

I lean back in my seat, folding my arms over my bare chest. “Satisfied?” I ask.

She remains speechless, her bottom lips trembling a bit as she struggles to regain composure.

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