Page 32 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

“So, you and your bodyguard, huh?”

A faint smile touched her lips. “You handle pressure well.”

“Is that mockery?”

She shrugged, her eyes teasing. “Maybe.”

“You should do a better job because I’m taking that as a compliment, and unlike you, I’m not selfish with compliments. You impress me with the way you navigate power plays like a pro. And I’m not easily impressed.”

Her smile deepened, but she didn’t respond. Instead, her shoulders sagged, and she grabbed the chair I’d occupied seconds ago before collapsing on it. When she peered up at me through thick, long lashes, I saw the exhaustion written all over her face.

“Don’t tell me a one-hour meeting has you wrung out.”

Leonora scoffed. “As if. Don’t flatter yourself. Three hours could have slipped by, and I’d be just fine.”

“Sure. Your slouched back on that chair is so convincing.”

“Asshole,” she murmured under her breath, but she was smiling.

What was strange was how seemingly normal it was to make small talk after a tense meeting—like it was second nature, and we did it all the time. It was almost like we existed in a world where she didn’t hate my guts and didn’t annoy the hell out of me.

“And, by the way, that’s not the only thing I’m pro at.”

“What?”

Aggressively, she rolled a hand in the air. “You called me a pro.”

“Is that right? And it stuck in your head because you can’t believe the almighty one would praise the Italian princess for using her brain. Gee, how sweet is that?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Always like what?”

Her cheeks flushed a shade of scarlet, and she looked anything but mad when her eyes met mine. “Always so full of shit sometimes. Before you interrupted me, I was saying, that’s not the only thing I’m professional at.”

I cocked my head to the side to make sure I heard correctly, and when she caught onto the silent allegation, she rolled her eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Yezhov. I’m talking about the track. I’m one hundred percent better behind wheels than navigating through business power plays, in your words. I’m also great at kicking ass.”

I had no doubt about that.

“Ten thousand dollars says I’d hand your ass over to you and make you bite the dust.”

“Uh, excuse me,what?” Her eyes lit up with an unmistakable glow, and her laughter was immediate, loud, throaty, and less feminine. But I didn’t mind when I liked the sound of it—genuine, like it was ripped straight from her soul.

Tears rolled down her cheeks when she composed herself, with her pearly whites still on full display. “I’m sorry. It’s just... I’m not trying to brag or anything, but you’re talking to a champion. I’d stake my hundred thousand dollars, knowing fully well that I’d be getting it back. If anyone’s handing over anyone’s ass, it’ll be from me to you. Your ass in my hand.”

I was sure it wasn’t her intention, and that wasn’t the effect she was aiming for, but that sounded fucking hot. And my cock seemed to think so, too.

“Remember: Actions speak louder than—”

“Inexperience? That had better be what you wanted to say.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Never underestimate your opponent,Leonya. I used to spend a lot of time on the track, too, when I had the time.”

“You mean during your more youthful days, don’t you? When you were younger and could hit it right?”

She did it again, coating her seemingly harmless comment with suggestive innuendos, and, at this point, I had no clue if it was intentional. The red burn at the top of her ears and the sudden stretch of her eyes made me think she knew she’d accidentally crossed a line.

Whichever it was, intentional or not, it was working. An instant rush to prove her wrong overcame me. I wanted to show her just howrightI could hit it.

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