Page 43 of Stolen By the Bratva King

Veronica scoffs. “But notthatprotective if he put you in the crossfire.”

“He didn’t know those guys would show up,” I say, unable to hide the defensiveness in my voice.

“Look at you, already defending him.” Her voice is gentle when she says it, but my stomach still sinks.

“I’m torn, between my bravery and my motivation to finish what I started, or just going back to normal life where I know I won’t be at risk of being shot every time I leave the house. Although, the whole reason David wanted me to stay with him was to protect me from those gangsters.”

“It seems like they’re everywhere.”

“David told me I couldn’t handle the bratva life. Maybe he’s right. He’s used to gun violence. It’s normal to him.”

“How did you leave things with him?” Veronica asks.

“With me screaming and throwing things in my suitcase and stomping out of his condo,” I say with a dry laugh.

“Hmm.” She’s quiet for a moment.

“What does that mean?” I hold my breath.

“I’m thinking.” She sighs. “How didhereact to you doing that?”

“He was calmer than I was,” I tell her. “He asked me not to leave.”

“But he did let you leave, obviously.” She sounds relieved.

“He told me I was free to go, that I wasn’t his prisoner. He wanted to take me home himself,” I add, as if I’m talking him up. I don’t know why I keep defending him.

“But you didn’t let him take you home, I’m guessing?”

I shake my head. “No. And he let me walk away. Just like that.”

She blows out a deep breath. “It sounds very complicated.”

I laugh without humor. “Tell me about it. Then he called me after I got home and begged me to come back.”

“What did you say?”

Tears sting in the back of my throat, burn in my eyes. I take a moment to compose my voice. “I told him it wasn’t a good idea. That we couldn’t be together.”

“Betogether?” Veronica sounds shocked. “Wait… did you sleep with him?”

My silence is enough of an answer. Veronica gasps.

“It’s not what you think,” I blurt out.

“I don’t knowwhatto think,” she practically shrieks.

“Please don’t judge me.” I sit back down in the chair because my legs can’t hold me up anymore.

“I’m not judging you. I amconcerned,though. Like, really concerned.”

I cradle my head in my hands. “What am I going to do, Veronica?”

“It sounds to me like he wants to be more than just your professional relationship,” she says.

“We crossed that line as soon as our clothes came off,” I wince.

“Do you regret it?”

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