Page 75 of Arranged Bratva Virgin

I need to figure out what to do about Marco.

I go straight through to my office because it is the only place I can be completely alone and think right now.

I slump down into the office chair with a loud and heavy sigh.

I imagine Marco won’t have much to say about me bursting in there today—not after the famous Dubrov showed up there to back me up. I roll my eyes.

I guess I should be grateful for that. He came to help and didn’t cause a scene or anything—but fuck's sake, man, it annoys me, this power imbalance.

I want to have the same impact that the Dubrovs have.

I sit at my desk, drumming my pen on the wooden surface, thinking and thinking and trying to figure out what to do and why Marco would continue to cause shit for me like this.

But at some point, after considering every angle of Marco’s attack plan, I realize that Marco has absolutely nothing to gain from causing issues at my warehouses. He looked so confused when I burst in there and seemed adamant, sticking to his word that he has nothing to do with it.

Maybe he wasn’t lying.

Maybe, because of the shit he caused in the past, even though that is resolved now, I have been too focused on him; I haven’t considered that it might be someone else.

I was so blinded by my anger, I didn’t stop to think.

I lean back in my office chair and run my fingers through my hair.

Who, though?

Now I have to start from scratch to figure out who would want to attack my business. Fuck it. This is annoying.

My mind goes blank as I try to consider someone else who would have it out for me enough to cause this constant drama.

But then my mind drifts and I start thinking about Darya.

She said more than once that the reason she told Maxim was because she was worried about me.

I wonder what she actually meant by that.

Could that possibly mean that she cares about me? As in, she might have feelings for me?

Things between us have been going really great lately. If she has developed real feelings for me…. My heart thunders wildly with excitement.

I take a deep breath. Let’s not get a head of ourselves, here.

Caring about someone’s safety and falling for them are two very different things.

But the hope that is growing in my heart is pretty intense, because I know what is happening to me.

I have fallen in love with her.

Everything about her.

I push my chair away from my desk and stand up.

I need to speak to her. I was pretty rude to her when she came to help me, and that wasn’t fair. I should apologize, and maybe it’s time for me to share how I feel.

My stomach knots with nervous tension.

It’s time, though. I have to open up and be honest.

I head downstairs and the kitchen staff tells me they think she is in her own room. So I head back upstairs, and find her room empty—but on the bed is a folded piece of paper with my name on it.

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