Page 28 of Escaping the Bratva

I turn to V, who is looking at me with curiosity.

“No, I just woke up. What’s going on?”

“The tabloids are talking about your new love interest.”

“My new love interest?” I walk back over to V and take my seat. No one knew about V. That’s impossible. “I don’t—”

“Um, yeah, you do. Your Russian hottie is all over the paper next to your face. ‘Marketing Tycoon Falls for Former Prison Inmate,’ says People magazine. It’s everywhere, Sasha!”

“Fuck!” This doesn’t look good. I represent clients who only care about their image. It’s everything to them, and they won’t want to work with me if they know I’m in a relationship with a felon. It’s not fair, but that’s the world I live in. I get up from the chair and grab my ripped dress from the floor, along with my clutch.

“Okay, calm down. I’ll call Francesca and see if she can track down the source. It will be fine.”

“I hope so because Blue State Realty wants to set up a meeting for Monday.”

Son of a bitch. Of course they do.

“I’ll call you when I’m home.” I hang up and immediately send a text to Francesca, our head of PR. I try not to bother my employees on the weekend, but I need to get ahead of this. I have to treat this just like I would with one of my clients.

“What’s going on?” V asks.

“The press apparently has pictures of us together, and they’re slamming my name in the tabloids.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I finally look up from my phone. “Because I own a huge marketing company that works with A-list celebrities. I can’t afford to have a scandal.”

His jaw clenches and his eyes turn cold. “So I’m a scandal now?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then why do you care what these people think?”

“Because this is my career. I can’t talk about this.” I walk into the bathroom and quickly change out of the bathrobe and into my tiny dress. The dress looks ridiculous now since part of it is ripped. I look like a billboard for the walk of shame.

“You aren’t going anywhere like that,” V says as I step out of the bathroom. I try to smooth my hair down, but I’m going to have to take a shower to get it to behave.

“V, I really have—"

“Come on. You can borrow something of mine.”

He stands and starts walking towards the stairs.

“That’s great, a picture of me wearing your clothes.”

“Would you rather look like you’ve just been fucked?” he snaps. I don’t say anything, and he turns around to continue up the stairs. I follow behind him and into his bedroom where he gives me a pair of baggy sweatpants and one of his T-shirts. Now I just look homeless…great.

“Thanks,” I mumble. He nods. I head to the door and neither of us say anything before I leave.

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