Page 9 of Stolen By the Bratva King

I shouldn’t be going anywhere with this stranger. I should be running for my life. But as he puts me in the passenger seat, straps my seatbelt on for me, and cranks the engine, the cold blast of air conditioner levels my thoughts and turns my sanity to rubble. All I want to do is get to safety. If it’s in this car, then so be it.

We peel out of the parking lot. I watch the warehouse in the side mirror until we round a corner.

Who is this David Petrov? I realize in that moment that the research I’ve done to this point are far more complex in real life than I can ever imagine. One thing is clear. I’m in way over my head.

4

David

My eyes train on her as soon as she enters my office. Her presence not only captures my attention. It demands it.

I stand and button my blazer, walking around the desk to meet her in the center of the room. She smells like something floral, sweet and bright like spring. My lungs expand to draw it in.

My eyes drift over her, and I try to keep my instant attraction under control. She’s alluring without trying, and it’s lucky for me she doesn’t seem to notice the powerful affect she has on me. If she knew how much she excites me, I’d be in trouble already.

She’s at least a head shorter than me, with deep brown eyes that peer up at me with a sense of daring and brave curiosity. She’s not just some random person. I see that now, but I’m curious what her intentions are. It’s dangerous for a woman like her to get anywhere close to the Bratva.

Her chestnut hair tumbles in silky waves over her shoulders and back. She’s wearing a pencil line tight black skirt that enhances her sleek curves. For a moment I allow myself to imagine my hands mapping out her hips, my fingers tracing the dip of her waist.

I glance at my security guard, Nero. “Leave us.”

He gives me a curt bow and steps from the room, closing the door behind him.

She tosses a nervous glance over her shoulder before returning her gaze to me. Her bravado plunders slightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m unarmed here.” I unbutton my blazer and lift the sides to show her.

What she doesn’t know is that my gun is in the top drawer of my desk, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her in this situation. Everything around me is an illusion, anyway. Nothing is real but death.

She releases a deep breath, but her shoulders don’t relax. “David Petrov. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person under different circumstances this time.”

A wry grin stretches across my mouth. “And Hazel Dowers, as I’ve been told. It’s also nice to meet with you in a less chaotic environment. Thank you for your discretion up to this point.”

She shrugs. “They were thugs who started a gun fight, and I have no idea whose bullets belonged to whom.”

I wag my finger at her. “You’re clever. I like it.”

Her eyes scroll over me briefly, taking me in, assessing how big of a threat I might be to her. I must give her credit, she masks herintimidation well, but there’s still a trace of it outlining the dark brown rim of her eyes.

“Yes, I’d say so.” She politely dips her head. “Thank you.”

I step to the side and gesture to the empty chair by my desk. “Please, sit.”

She does as I ask.

“Can I have my assistant bring you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

She hesitates, but I see in her eyes that she’s too worn out to deny herself a drink. “Coffee would be great.”

I press a button on my desk phone. “Sonya? Would you bring two coffees in here please?”

“Cream and sugar,” Hazel adds, leaning forward.

“Cream and sugar,” I echo into the receiver.

Sonya promises to bring them shortly.

I practically salivate as I watch Hazel cross her legs. Her skirt lifts a little, revealing more thigh. So pale. So soft. I stare at the bonus skin while she reaches for something in her purse. She pulls out her phone.

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