Page 26 of Brutal Bratva King

I’ve been bored.

But today, I decided to get to know the mansion better. It is my home, so I may as well learn where everything is.

I start on the ground floor, exploring room by room.

It’s a gorgeous place.

There is so much natural light flowing through here, I love it. I wonder why he bought such a big place to live alone in. It must have been an investment of some kind.

I roam from room to room. The library is my favorite, with its floor to ceiling stained glass windows. I also love the sunroom upstairs, which overlooks the massive garden and pool area. There is a gym, he was being serious about that. That will be a good way to stay busy.

As I walk down a long passage, I hear his voice. The deep, alluring tone pulls me towards him. I shouldn’t go. I should stay away from him because all we ever manage to do is argue.

Curiosity gets the better of me, though and I make my way towards him despite the warning in my head.

I don’t want him to catch me snooping around and think that I’m up to something.

It's already so tense between us that it would make it ten times worse.

Besides, I’m a little worried about coming face to face with him because I know my body is immediately going to want him again. Every time I even think about him I want him.

I can’t believe he pulled away from me the other night. Isn’t he also going crazy about it? I guess not.

That thought embarrasses me even more. Am I more attracted to him than he is to me?

“No, I don’t want to do business with that client anymore. He’s an asshole. We can reply to his message and tell him to basically get fucked. Actually, let me do it. Forward me the order he is trying to place.”

There is a pause and I creep close to the door, keeping my body flat against the wall.

“Yes, I’m sure. He is more trouble than he’s worth and he keeps demanding discounts. I’m done with him.”

I lean a little closer and hold my breath. I wonder what the client did. It’s pretty cool to be able to tell clients to piss off because you own your own business. Not letting people walk all over you is a sign of strength. But you also need to learn when to put up with difficult clients and when to let them go.

“Alright, and what about—“

I lean a little too far forward and bump into a picture frame hanging above my head. It makes a loud knocking sound and my heart speeds up while I hold my breath, hoping he didn’t hear.

But the silence from his office indicates that he now fully aware that someone is out here.

I look left and right, trying to find an escape route, but there isn’t one. The door to the closest room is too far away and it will look much worse if I’m literally running from the scene when he catches me.

So, instead, I stand tall and force myself to take a breath and try to calm my heart.

He steps out of his office, his eyes are dark and narrowed as he looks down at me.

Lifting the phone to his ear he says, “I am going to have to call you back.”

He clicks the button and cuts the call off. I can feel my body rigid and stiff as I wait for him to release his anger on me.

“Princess. What do I owe the pleasure of your—company?”

“I wasn’t spying,” I blurt out. As I say it, I feel my throat tighten because just saying it out loud makes me appear far more guilty.

He leans against the door frame, his thick arms folded across his chest. His shirt is rolled up over his muscular forearms and I can’t help but eye the taunt flex as he moves.

“Is that so?” his deep voice sounds accusing but calm. I can’t work out if he’s angry, but I’m terrified.

“I promise,” I stammer. “I was just exploring the mansion and I heard your voice. I came to—” my mouth falls open. This is not easy to explain.

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