Page 5 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

Every moment of every day.

I can’t stop thinking about her.

I sigh and drop my legs off the coffee table again. I wonder what Clara is doing now.

Where she is.

Glancing at my watch I see it’s already quite late in the afternoon.

I am over all of this work shit. Bad clients and failed deals. I’ll take to my brothers about all of that shit tomorrow—right now, I want to see what Clara is doing.

I push myself up from the sofa and gather my phone and other things. I’m not even going to bother taking any work stuff home tonight. I’m not in the mood.

Heading for the door, I bump into Oleg, who is about to step into my office. If Oleg starts talking about work now, I’ll never get out of here, and now that I’ve got my mind set on finding Clara. I want to go.

“Alex, how did the meeting go?”

“I’ve got to run. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Oh, sure. Tomorrow, then.” Oleg looks suspiciously at me.

I throw him a wide grin, but he knows me too well, and in response he just raises his brows. No smile in return.

I turn and hurry away before he can start prying deeper.

In my car I pull out my phone. Clara is unaware that I have a tracker on her car.

She is parked at a restaurant in the city. It’s a fancy place. Not the kind of place you go alone.

Six o'clock. That’s not a work meeting.

I hit the gas and speed towards it, wondering what she is up to and who she is with.

Outside the restaurant, standing in the street near where I parked my car, I can see her through the window talking to a man in a dark gray suit.

He is one hundred percent into her. His body language is clear. She looks calm, leaning away, perhaps even bored.

I chuckle.

I guess I can have some fun with this.

I push the door open and walk inside, seating myself at the table right behind her date's chair.

Clara is looking directly at me. A fierce glare. I grin and tilt my head towards her, then pick up the menu and start browsing through it, as though this is the most normal thing in the world.

She is still talking to her date, who is yammering on about something that happened in their office today. Okay. So they work together.

This is an after-hours date.

Mm.

I don’t like it.

Her date picks up his drink and swirls the dark red wine before taking a deep sniff of it.

I pick up my water, still waiting for the waiter to bring my whiskey. Clara is watching me. I swirl the water dramatically in my glass and then inhale the scent as though it was a luxurious red wine.

Clara looks amused, but only for a split second before she rolls her eyes and picks up her own drink, turning her attention back on her date.

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