Page 12 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I say as I sit back down in my chair, reaching for the glass of wine in front of me. “There was a moment I thought you were going to stand me up when you refused to let me pick you up from your home. It would have been no trouble at all to send one of my cars for you.”

“For once, I want to experience something other than a man sending his car for me.”

“Do you have a lot of men picking you up and taking you to nice restaurants, asking you to dine with them, promising to take you to the corners of the world?”

“And what if I did?” she asks, her smile coy. She looks at me over the edge of the menu. “What if other men are promising to give me what you think you can give me?”

“I would tell you that they're all dead. Dead to you, that is. I can assure you that you will meet no other man like me, no other man capable of giving you the things you want, even the things you didn't know you wanted. Every little thing you've ever craved in your life could be yours.”

“It could be.” Pearl pauses, glancing around the restaurant her gaze landing on a waiter who scurries over the moment she looks at him. “Excuse me? Do you mind fetching us another bottle of white wine? Same vintage as this one here. I'm sure we're going to need it.”

I stifle a grin at her request for another bottle of wine. If she thinks we’re going to be here long enough for two, then she’s at least interested in getting to know me.

The waiter can't be more than a university student. He stumbles over his feet, smoothing down his tie as he looks down at her. His gaze drops to her chest and when she notices, she puts her hand on his forearm, batting her eyelashes.

A surge of jealousy rises in my chest, but I wash it down with a large gulp of wine. It will be sweeter to watch the boy make a fool of himself than it would be to intervene.

“Thank you so much,” she says, her voice warm like linens fresh from the dryer on a chilly winter day.

The boy scurries off but as he disappears behind the bar, he casts her one last longing glance. It's no surprise to me. She's got to be closer to his age than my own.

Smirking over the edge of my menu card, I close it and set it aside, already knowing what I'm going to order. “You know that wasn't kind. He's going to spend the rest of his shift thinking about you and trying to work up the nerve to talk to you, and he's never going to be able to do it. Even if he was, that's another kind of man you don’t need in your life. He's little more than a boy.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about what you think I need in my life.”

“I have years of experience a boy like that doesn't have. I've spent my life around women who deserve the best in the world. I know what they want, I'm willing to give it to them.”

“But at what cost?”

“I guess that would depend on the woman.” I clasp my hands together, leaning forward on the table forearms resting on the white tablecloth. “Look, I’m being honest, I would like to get to know you.”

“That sounds unusual coming from a man like you.”

“So, you know who I am then?”

“I might know more than you think about you.” Pearl smirks and continues reading the menu. “But I do know you own a casino and you’re a threat to Noah Hearst’s business.”

Then she doesn’t know about the Bratva. I’m uncertain of whether that should be a relief or not. Whether I should believe her or not.

It would be easier if she knew the entirety of who I am, but if she doesn’t, it may be easier to win her over.

Even though she's looking through the menu, I know her attention is on me. She can't seem to focus, her gaze flickering up to mine more than once. Those brown eyes look more like an innocent puppy than the shrewd businesswoman Yegor says she is.

“A lady should tell her admirer … However, if you don't want to sit here and tell me, then I'm sure we can find other ways to discuss your life. Who's your family? What's your home like?”

“Does any of that truly matter?”

Evading me again.

“No. Once you’ve seen that you’re mine, that's the only thing that matters. You could live in a hole in the ground. I wouldn't care. I have the power to change that.”

“I can assure you I didn't crawl out of some dingy little crater beneath a bridge. Although that sounds interesting.” Her laugh is light and airy, drawing the attention of those around us.

The envious stares surrounding us have my chest puffing with pride. I'm the one who got her to laugh. I hold her entire attention. It doesn't waver. It doesn't drift to the salivating man at the table beside us who looks like he would be a better match for her.

Instead, her gaze roams my body. She eyes the tattoos on my hands that peek out of the cuff of my jacket. That creep up my neck. There are more tattoos than there is free skin. But the thought of her retracing them with her fingertips as we lay in bed on a slow Sunday morning has my cock aching again.

Fuck, I want her. I need her, and even though I know I shouldn't, I want to take her home now. Give her the life that a man like me can provide to a woman like her.

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