Page 9 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

“Everything’s all hunky-dory,” I grumble as I slip into the shower.

Half an hour later, after dressing and downing one double espresso, I’m ready to tackle my task list. The first item is a coffee date with Shelby. Great. I love my best friend, I just don’t love the fact that she’s working for my father. It makes it awkward whenever I pop by to take her out for lunch or go shopping. Dad always wants to catch up, to talk. All I want to do is avoid yet another instance of saying, “No, Dad, I’m still not going to come work for you.”

Shelby waits for me at her desk, a few feet away from the secretary’s workstation. Linda has been with my father for a long time, too long, and one can tell just by looking at her desk. And by looking at Linda. The woman is clearly the queen over this domain.

“Good morning, Linda,” I say with a pleasant tone, praying she won’t tell my father I’m here.

“Good morning, Lyric. Matthew knows you’re here. He’ll be right out,” she replies.

“Great,” I mutter with a strained smile, just as Shelby gathers her phone and wallet and slips them into her green snakeskin purse. “Ready?” I ask.

“Almost,” she says. “Gotta make sure I set the out of office for my email.”

“Geez, Shelby, we’ll only be gone an hour.”

“Yeah, but the first round of debates is this Sunday,” she sighs. “I need to stay on top of everything.”

I give her a long look. She’s noticeably different from the girl I met in high school. She’s taller and slimmer, her pale blonde hair combed into a tight bun, her brown eyes hidden behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses. She looks killer in pencil-skirts and silk shirts. Oh, God, she’s turning into Linda. I see it clearly now as they stand side by side.

“Wow, you’ve gotten really involved,” I tell Shelby.

“Of course. You either do something right, or you don’t do it at all,” she replies as she slings her purse over her shoulder.

I nod toward the elevator doors on the other side of the bullpen. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait, your dad wanted to talk to you.”

“I’d rather—”

Too late. My father comes out of his office, instantly putting on his signature, placid, poster-boy smile. “Lyric, honey, glad to see you!”

“Hey, Dad.”

Linda watches our exchange with renewed interest. Deep down, she knows I’d probably take his campaign to the next level, but I swore off politics a long time ago. She also knows that since I’m the apple of my daddy’s eye, so to speak, she wouldn’t get as much attention as she’s used to if I were around all the time.

I can tell that she has mixed feelings about me being here in any capacity. Which just goes to prove how dangerously charming my father can be.

“Have you reconsidered my offer?” he asks, getting straight to the point as usual.

“It’s still a no for me, but thanks, Dad,” I reply. “Not sure if you remember, but I’m currently working on my doctorate thesis. As is Shelby, by the way.” I pause and give my best friend a sideways glance.

“In case you forgot why you’re working here,” I tell her.

Shelby chuckles softly. “I know that silly. It just so happens that I enjoy this internship and I’m learning way more than I had originally anticipated.”

“That’s right,” Dad says. “In fact, I’m prepared to give Shelby an official full-time offer once she’s submitted her thesis. You know, you’re missing out on an incredible opportunity, Lyric. And just as I’m about to make history.”

“Thank you again, Dad, but my algorithm doesn’t belong in politics.”

“Right, right. You’re just going to sell it to the highest bidder in corporate America,” he scoffs. And there it is, the muted bitterness of rejection. The one thing my father cannot handle well. And Shelby’s biggest issue is that she can never say no. No wonder they get along. “Anyway, you girls have a good lunch. Don’t keep Shelby too long, I need her to draft a press response by three o’clock regarding the debate.”

“Sure thing,” I say, about to roll my eyes when Linda gasps upon checking her phone.

“Oh, my God!”

“What is it?” my father asks.

One by one, phones start chirping and ringing all over the bullpen. His entire campaign is ablaze all of a sudden, with what I can only guess is unsettling news—at least, judging by the worried looks on their faces.

---