Page 26 of Forced Bratva Hostage

“Okaaaay…” I drawled, sitting up, my tone laced with hesitation and skepticism as my lips curled into a dubious grin.

“Your breakfast is ready, Miss Wren,” Martha said, nodding at her associate.

Mary did the same and walked over to a table by the window where rays from the morning sun filtered through. She picked up a tray and gracefully glided over to me, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she set the tray on my lap.

She took a step back, and Martha joined her to tower over me, both women giggling softly.

I shifted my gaze across the two of them, eyes squinting ever so slightly as I tried to read between the lines.

Breakfast in bed. That was a first. And what the hell was so amusing?

Why were they being overly friendly and nice?

Mary and Martha were mature women, probably above forty, and of all the maids in the mansion, they were the oldest and most respected.

Since my arrival, they'd been somewhat nice to me, although they never really smiled this much. I'd always thought Mary and Martha were gorgeous women, and these infectious smiles only confirmed that I was right.

Martha was a stout woman whose blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her hazel-brown eyes sparkled with a blend of mischief and excitement as she stared at me.

Mary, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. She was a lanky woman of an intimidating height and long, dark hair that fell loosely over her shoulders. She had an amazing pair of piercing green and lush eyelashes. She must have been hotter when she was younger.

“Wh…what's going on?” I stuttered, my gaze lingering on the two of them, searching for answers.

They were quiet for some time, each retaining their smiles, their silence heightening my anticipation for a response.

This had never happened before. Usually, I would have my breakfast downstairs, alone. Although, sometimes, Afanasy would stop by and make a silly joke that would either leave me sad or angry—in most cases, it was often the latter.

“Your food is getting cold, Miss Wren,” Martha said, her tone courteous.

I hesitated before darting my eyes to the luxurious breakfast set-up: fine china, crystal glasses, and a delicate lace tablecloth.

My stomach growled in anticipation, and my mouth watered at the sight of the elegant meal laid before me. On the set-up, poached eggs were perched atop toasted English muffins, smothered in rich hollandaise sauce, and sprinkledwith edible gold dust. I took a moment to savor the aroma of this masterpiece that invaded my senses.

I swallowed, eyes narrowing as I picked up a fork and shot a quick look at the women.

Martha nodded as if urging me to eat, her expression soft and gentle.

With cautious movements, I took a tentative bite, and in an instant, every cell in my body sprang to life, my senses roaring. The incredible flavor exploded on my tongue, overwhelming my taste buds with an intoxicating deliciousness.

“Hmm.” I reflexively let out a satisfactory sigh, eyes shut for a moment as I chewed with delicate motions.

Olga, I love you, I thought to myself, appreciating her cooking.

Mary and Martha exchanged glances, giggling softly.

As good as the meal was, I couldn't let my guard down, nor could I help the unease growing within me. I knew that something was amiss—something was fishy—but I had no idea what it was.

While eating, my mind raced across a myriad of possibilities but never really settled on one, which was useless, by the way, considering I still had no clue what was going on.

I hated being watched over while eating; it always made me feel uncomfortable, and clearly, these women couldn't take a hint.

As I ate, I squirmed under their watchful gaze, feeling suffocated by this unwanted attention. Each bite felt like a scrutinized performance under their hovering presence, which only intensified my discomfort.

Thanks to Mary and Martha's towering figures, I barely enjoyed the meal that way I would have if I was alone.

Once I was done, Mary stepped forward and took the tray off my lap, her smile unwavering. She headed back to the table, set the tray on the surface, and returned to stand beside Martha.

“Now what?” I questioned, my voice laced with curiosity as my eyes shifted between their bright faces.

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