Page 31 of Stolen By the Bratva King

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “You can trust me.”

I start strutting from the room, glancing at her over my shoulder with a satisfied smirk. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

I steparound the car while Hazel takes her seatbelt off. Before she can grab her purse and exit, I’m there, opening the door for her.

She arches a cynical eyebrow. “Behaving like a gentleman in front of your crew?”

My jaw twitches. “I will treat a woman with respect in public and in private. I should hope you’ve gathered as much by now.”

Her face softens when she realizes her words touched a nerve. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Let’s just go,” I grumble, pushing the button to lock the car doors. “I have a lot to go over tonight in here.”

She nods, clutching her purse tight over her shoulder, following on my heels.

I eye her over my shoulder. I’m walking with deliberation and purpose. When I pick up my pace, she does too. Her eyes dart in every direction. I halt in my tracks, turn and face her.

She topples into my arms. I take her by the waist and wait a beat before removing my hands. She takes a deep breath.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” I promise her. “I’ll protect you.”

She nods and licks her lips. “Okay.” She looks like she actually believes me for once.

We walk inside and I flip the light switch on, bathing the room in bright florescent light. Hazel blinks as her eyes adjust. She moves about with curiosity, taking everything in.

She spins and gives me a confused head tilt, her hip jutting out. She doesn’t even realize how sexy she is, just by simply existing. “Where is everyone?”

“No one here but us right now, sweetheart,” I say in a low voice.

“Is anyone else expected?” she asks, “or did you plan it like this to get me by myself?”

I consider my words carefully. I want to keep my crew in the dark as much as I can about her because I don’t know how they’ll take it if they know I agreed to give her a story.

Even if names are kept out of it, they might not want her to be able to connect their faces with any organized crime going on. Miroslav is the only one of my crew she’s met, but he’s signed NDA’s not to expose her or what I’m doing with her. To be fair, I’m not even really sure what my true intentions are with her yet.

“Nobody will be here while we are,” I finally say. For now, the vaguer, the better, keeps the complication out of things.

She turns back around, not pressing the matter for now. I release a long breath.

“Can I record this conversation?” she asks. “Also, can I take pictures?”

“No pictures. No recordings,” I grunt.

She shrugs as if she expects me to say this and she’s prepared for the rejection of it. “Fair enough, I guess. I’ll just take notes.”

“Good, the old-fashioned way,” I say.

“What’s this?” Her hands run over a machine in the corner by the back wall.

I come up behind her, resisting the urge to plant my hands on her hips and tug up her dress. “This one makes one-hundred dollar super notes.”

She glances at me. “What’s a super note?”

I pull one out of the machine and hold it out to her. “This.”

She seems reluctant to take it from me.

“Relax,” I tell her. “All this money is brushed for fingerprints before it’s used.”

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