Page 45 of Innocently Imprisoned By the Bratva

"Maybe she's right," I counter, pushing off from the doorframe and stepping into the room. "Pippa's got a mind of her own. She's not some helpless girl you can push around."

“Perhaps. But in this office, she should focus on what we tell her to,” Boris says. "You've always been reckless and impulsive, but this is too much. We're talking about the Bratva, not some playground game."

“Really, Boris?” I look at him and scoff. “Is this how we do things now?”

He raises his eyebrows, clearly not getting my point.

“Look, Brother,” Damien says. “She’s not from our world. We cannot expect her to understand the nuances surrounding it.”

“Well,” I cross my arms. “There were many people not from our world who are now our greatest advisors. Take Robin, for example,” I refer to Boris’s wife.

I watch their expressions shift, surprised by my defense of her. "She's starting to belong in our world, whether you like it or not."

"Lev," Boris sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Look," I snap, my temper flaring, "I'm not saying she should be involved in every little Bratva decision, but she has the right to voice her opinion when it comes to something that affects her life. And kidnapping Lenny's daughter? I now believe we’d be crossing a line that we shouldn't cross, especially after what I put Pippa through. Tell me, isn’t she right? Tomorrow, if one of us makes a mistake, how would we feel if our enemies came looking for Anoushka?”

Suddenly, my brothers go quiet.

“All I’m saying is, we should be more open-minded to what she has to say,” I add. With that, I turn on my heel and storm out of the office, slamming the door behind me. My heart hammers in my chest, and I know I need to see Pippa. Pulling out my phone, I dial her number.

"Hey, Lev," she answers, her sweet voice calming me down instantly.

"Hey, Sweetheart," I reply, trying to sound casual. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me tonight?"

"Sure," she agrees, her tone brightening. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere nice," I promise, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I was thinking Italian."

"Sounds like a plan. See you by your car at six thirty." And with that, she hangs up, leaving me waiting to countdown till I can finally hold her in my arms.

***

By seven that night, we make our way to a classy, crowded restaurant and order some wine and appetizers to start, our conversation flowing easily as we catch up on the day's events.

I pour her a glass of wine and she tells me all about the politics in HR, and I tell her I had a pretty uneventful day. For some reason, I just can’t bring myself to tell her about the things my brothers said. If I want Pippa and them to have a good relationship, there are certain opinions I can keep from her.

I know my brothers will come around, eventually.

The waiter comes around to take our orders.

“What are you thinking?” I ask Pippa.

“Umm. I can’t decide between the prawn and the steak,” she says as she bites her lower lip.

I slam shut my menu and hand it to the waiter. “We’ll take both,” I tell him.

“You didn’t have to do that!” she protests, her eyes wide. “You should have got what you wanted.”

“I like both, and how about we share?” I suggest.

She nods, blushing slightly. We continue to talk about everything but the elephant in the room, my brothers' opinions of her.

Our food arrives, and I divide it into equal portions, both our plates home to the prawn and the steak.

“That waiter looked like we’ve lost the plot,” she giggles and gives me a conspiratorial wink.

“Maybe he’s never been in love,” I wink back at her.

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