Page 43 of Captured By the Bratva

He chuckles, pulling back a little more, but his eyes are still dark with want. “Always so focused on business. Alright, let’s talk.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart and shifting back to sit more comfortably on the couch. “I’m serious about wanting to overthrow Joe. He’s ruining everything my father built, and I can’t just stand by and watch.”

Kirill nods, his expression turning serious as well. “You’re committed to this. That’s good. You’ll need tougher skin. This won’t be easy.”

I meet his gaze, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “I’m ready for whatever it takes. I can handle it.”

Kirill scowls. “I don’t know that you can.”

His words strike a nerve, and I pull my hand away, glaring at him. “Are you saying I’m weak? That I can’t handle this on my own?”

Kirill’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re too sensitive, Violet. This is exactly what I mean. You need to toughen up if you’re going to take on Joe.”

My anger flares, a hot rush of indignation coursing through me. “I am not weak, and I’m not too sensitive! Just because I don’t handle things the way you do doesn’t mean I can’t handle them at all.”

He leans closer, his presence overwhelming. “You need to learn to take criticism without falling apart. This isn’t just about you; it’s about the company, your father’s legacy. If you’re going to lead, you need to be stronger than this.”

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling a mix of hurt and fury. “I can be strong without being cold and heartless, Kirill. There’s more than one way to lead.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “You think this is about being heartless? It’s about survival. If you show any weakness, Joe will exploit it. The shareholders will see it. You need to be impenetrable.”

His words cut deep, and I struggle to keep my composure. “I thought you were here to support me, not tear me down.”

“I am supporting you,” he retorts, his voice firm. “But you need to understand that this isn’t a game. It’s war. In war, there’s no room for sensitivity.”

I turn away, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I don’t need you to tell me how to feel, Kirill. I need you to believe in me.”

He stands up, towering over me. “I do believe in you, but you need to toughen up. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t let every little thing get under your skin.”

His dominance is palpable, and I feel a surge of defiance. “You need to understand that strength comes in many forms. Just because I don’t act like you doesn’t mean I’m not capable.”

We stand there, the air thick with tension, neither of us willing to back down. There’s a part of me that wants to lash out, to make him see that I am strong, but another part that understands the brutal reality he’s trying to prepare me for.

Finally, I turn away, needing space to collect my thoughts.

“We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow,” he says, voice cold.

“No we won’t,” I say, turning back to face him. “We’ll take about it now, like adults.”

I see his face darken, and I wince.

Chapter Twenty - Kirill

As much as her defiance pisses me off, there’s an undeniable part of me that’s turned on by her fire, her refusal to back down. It’s a maddening mix of emotions that I can’t quite reconcile.

“We’ll talk about this later,” I say, trying to keep my tone even.

She stops in her tracks and turns to face me, her eyes blazing. “No, we’ll talk about it now. Like adults.”

Her challenge ticks me off. “You’re being irresponsible and childish, Violet. This isn’t a game.”

Her face flushes with anger. “You’re being a domineering ass, Kirill. Just because you’re used to people cowering before you doesn’t mean I will.”

My temper flares, and I can feel the heat rising between us. “You don’t get it, do you? This is about survival. Your father’s legacy is at stake, and you’re too busy being sensitive to see the bigger picture.”

She steps closer, her eyes locked on to mine, her voice rising. “I keep telling you, there’s more than one way to be strong. You think your way is the only way, but it’s not.”

We’re both on our feet now, the argument escalating until we’re almost touching, our breaths coming in sharp, heated bursts. I can feel the tension crackling between us, and despite my anger, I can’t ignore the surge of arousal that pulses through me. The way she stands up to me, her fierce determination—it’s intoxicating.

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