Page 3 of Claimed By the Bratva

“Nothing exciting to report. I gathered reports and checked some manifests.” I replied over my shoulder.

“Ya should get a life, girl. Go out, have some fun,” she shouted as I moved down the corridor to the bullpen.

At this point in my life, I was working hard to get noticed by management. I wanted to build my career before focusing on anything else. I kept my nose in the books and graduated last year with honors. Excelling in life was my goal; I didn’t want to struggle or end up on the wrong side of the tracks like Jax.

There was no time for dating, jollying, or any other activities that could distract me from my goals. I was one of the lucky ones. After graduation, I moved to the city and almost instantly found a job. I have worked longer hours than most of my colleagues and even worked the weekends. I wanted to move up and was determined to show my worth.

Pulling out the stiff office chair out of my cubicle, I sat down and started up my computer. My dream was to go out and catch the bad guys. Grinning at my reflection on the screen, I pulled up the application I had started for firearms training. I thought it was now or never as I pressed the submit button.

I had scheduled a meeting with my boss for next week. By then, I would know if I qualified for the training program. If I got in, he would have to allow me to prove that I could cut it. I wanted to work for the government, I wanted some of the action at customs and border patrol. I quickly browsed through my emails. There was nothing pertinent, and I could leave them for later.

Grabbing the folder from my bag, I opened it and started submitting the numbers. I took it home on Saturday and completed it on Sunday. Now, I only needed to enter the final figures into the program. Once this was through, the electronic company could collect their order. Everything checked out according to their manifest.

Once that was done, I headed to the small kitchen. I had to pass by Gale again as the kitchen was down the other corridor. I just wanted a warm cup of coffee so I could get started on my emails. As I left the bullpen and headed back through the corridor, the elevator doors opened.

A muscular, dark-haired man stepped out and moved to Gale’s desk. He wore a deep blue suit. Well, I thought as I approached, at least Gale would be busy, and I didn’t need to stop for more chit-chat. I passed quickly, wanting to get my coffee and move back to my cubicle before Gale’s distraction disappeared.

She was an excessively friendly woman. She liked talking about her dates, fashion, and things that didn’t interest me. I never knew what to say if she asked me about the latest fashion or a new club that opened. It was easier to calculate risk factors than to talk to her.

After pouring a cup, I added milk and peeked around the kitchen door. He was still standing there. I stepped out of the kitchen and headed back. As I got to her desk, Gale looked up, smiling broadly. “Joyce,” she said. Her tone sounded like it reached a new high pitch as she spoke, lifting a finger into the air.

Glancing at the floor before me, I cursed silently before stopping and looking at her. I noticed his black shoes were so polished, that I could almost see my reflection. “Yes, Gale?” I said hesitantly.

“This man,” she said, pointing at him and batting her eyelids. Her smile was so wide, it looked like her ears were about to be swallowed. “He wants to talk to someone about shipments. Can you assist him?”

“Shipments?” I retorted, looking at him questioningly. “I don’t know if I can assist, but I can maybe find someone that can.”

“Oh, I just need basic information,” he replied in a deep voice.

For a second, I just stood staring at him. His grey eyes appeared to be hypnotic. He was enigmatic. Before I could stop myself, I invited him to follow me to my office. As I walked ahead of him, I could feel his eyes scanning my body. I cursed myself silently for allowing one look to overpower me.

Entering the bullpen, I walked to my cubicle. I stepped to the side, pulling one of the other intern’s chairs closer. “Please have a seat,” I said.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket before sitting down. I took my chair while pulling out a paper and pen from my drawer. “Right, Mr….,” I said, glancing up. I waited to get his name.

“Excuse my manners. You can call me Anton,” he replied charmingly. Leaning forward, he held out his hand.

For a moment, I hesitated. My body was reacting in a way I had never experienced. For some reason, I felt hot. My stomach churned, and my breath caught in my throat. Not wanting to appear abrupt or hostile, I leaned forward and shook his hand.

His hand was softer than it looked. Even though his grip was firm, it was gentle. His muscular physique was clearly visible as his shirt pulled tight.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Joyce. How can I assist?” I heard my voice cracking as I spoke. Looking down at the notepad before me, I waited for him to reply.

I didn’t dare look at him. There was a clear attraction. I didn’t know why or understand it. All I knew was that I wantedhim out of the bullpen as quickly as possible. I couldn’t afford to get pulled into a relationship now.

“I started working at this company recently,” he replied in a friendly tone. “They import and export specific items. Before I can move forward, I must ensure I understand all the legalities of the shipment process.”

Glancing at him, I caught his charismatic smile. “I hope you can help me out. I would be truly grateful if you could help, as I want to keep my job,” he added.

Something was puzzling about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But I felt the attraction. It was strong. In a sense, he was in the same boat as me. He was just trying to keep his job while I was working in hopes of being promoted. I could surely assist him. It wouldn’t kill me. But I was sure we couldn’t spend too much time together as my emotions were indisputably going to betray me.

“Alright then, what do you need to know?” I replied, giving him a slight smile.

“Thank you so much,” he said suddenly all businesslike. He instantly changed from being overly friendly and charismatic to being formal and professional.

My mind flooded with red signals as alarm bells rang. Pushing them aside, I wrote his name at the top of the sheet. “What company do you work for?” I enquired.

“Oh, it’s a start-up,” he said, pushing his hand through his black hair. “Could I ask you to come with me? Come meet my boss, he will be able to give you all the information you require.”

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