Page 32 of Forced Bratva Prisoner

I head to the kitchen to make coffee. Sasha is there already in her pajama shorts and a crop top. My eyes wander over her body until she turns around to look at me. I quickly avert my gaze.

“Did you sleep well?”

“If you lock me out again, I swear I will remove the door.”

“Lock you out? Why would I do that?” I can’t believe how fucking innocent she makes herself sound.

“I’m warning you, Sasha,” I say, stepping very close to her and glaring down at her.

She calmly sips her freshly-made coffee.

“Noted,” she says sweetly, not seeming to notice the heated tension between us.

My body is responding to her minimal attire in ways I’d rather not have her see, so I turn away from her to grab a mug out of the cupboard. I am furious that she seems so calm and unaffected by everything that I’ve tried to annoy her with, yet manages to grate at my nerves with her little jabs.

I sigh loudly and turn towards the coffee machine.

Only to find that it isn’t there.

I spin around in a rage.

Sasha has already left the kitchen, carrying her own fresh coffee, so I know she is responsible for this.

“Sasha, where the fuck is my coffee machine?” I shout in frustration.

She pokes her head back through the kitchen door.

“I don’t recall you having a coffee machine. What did it look like?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You are holding a cup of coffee in your hands.”

“What, this? Don’t be silly. This is tea.” She grins.

“I can fucking smell the coffee—"

But she is already walking away, and I bite down on the rest of my words, knowing that I am giving her exactly what she wants—the satisfaction of knowing that she is getting to me.

Fine. I’ll get dressed and go down to the local cafe for breakfast. I march upstairs to get some fresh clothes only to come face-to-face with a locked door again.

That’s it.

I grab my phone and dial Ivan.

“Sir, what can I help you with this morning?”

“I want my bedroom door removed.”

“Removed? Like as in the whole door?”

“Just do it,” I snarl angrily and hang up.

I go through to her old room and put on the same clothes I wore the day before, then leave the house to find a cup of coffee, because I can’t start my day without one.

***

Sitting at a cafe in town, waiting for my order to arrive, I lean back in my chair and run my hands over my face.

Without being able to stop myself I start laughing.

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