Page 28 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

I clear my throat, breaking the tense silence. It’s better than staring at one another awkwardly. "Your mission. Tell me about it."

Sofia stiffens, her back still turned to me. "What about it?"

"Why go it alone?" I probe, my tone direct. "It's not exactly a smart move."

She gives me a death stare. "And what would you know about smart moves, Vladimir? You're not the one with four overbearing brothers breathing down your neck."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her flash of anger. "Enlighten me."

"They treat me and Natalia like we’re made of glass," she spits out, sitting up. The moonlight catches her blonde hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow. "Natalia hasn’t truly questioned it, for if she could have it her way, she’d forget allabout the Bratva. She’s always cravednormal,whatever that is. But I’ve always wanted to be a part of it and it’s absurd for them to treat me as if I can't handle myself in our world."

"Can you?" I challenge, propping myself up on one elbow.

Sofia's laugh is sharp, cutting. "I've been reading since I could walk. I know six ways to kill a man without using a weapon. But to them, I'm still little Sofie who needs protecting."

I observe her carefully, noting the fire in her eyes, the set of her jaw. "And this mission is your way of proving them wrong?"

"It's my way of doing what needs to be done," she retorts, her voice icy. "Someone has to step up, and if my brothers are too busy coddling me to see the threat, I'll handle it myself. Besides, they don’t understand that sheltering us won’t keep us safe.”

I feel a grudging respect growing for this woman. “It won’t?”

She shakes her head. “They won’t always be around, will they?” she whispers. “Natalia could get picked up off-campus. Someone could break in. There are a million ways we could get hurt because of their actions, and the only way to protect us is to keep us informed. But, they never understood that.”

There’s a wistfulness in her tone that tugs at my heart. The woman in her simply wants to be understood, and the truth is, she makes complete sense.

“You’re right,” I say softly.

I watch as surprise flickers across Sofia's face, her icy demeanor thawing slightly. "You… approve?" she asks, skepticism lacing her voice.

"I get where you’re coming from," I reply, holding her gaze. "It takes guts to go against your family, especially in our world. But more than that, it takes skill to survive. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be trained like your brothers."

Sofia's posture relaxes marginally. "I have the skill," she asserts, chin raised defiantly.

I nod, acknowledging her claim. "Then show me. Prove it's not just bravado."

A ghost of a smile plays on her lips. "Is that a challenge, Vladimir?"

"Consider it an offer," I say, my voice softening. "To help, not hinder. If you're determined to learn all about your world, you should be prepared."

Sofia studies me, her green eyes searching my face. "Why would you help me?"

I shrug, feeling oddly exposed under her scrutiny. "Because I'd rather see you succeed than fail. And because I know what it's like to have something to prove."

The silence stretches between us, charged with a new understanding. Finally, Sofia nods with a soft smile playing on her lips, a smile that lights up every feature of her beautiful voice. "Alright," she whispers at last. "I might just take you up on that.”

***

Sunlight streams through the gaps in the curtains, rousing me from sleep. I blink, momentarily disoriented, before my eyes land on Sofia's sleeping form beside me. She's curled onher side, facing away from me, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow.

In sleep, her face is relaxed, free from the guarded expression she wears when awake. I find myself captivated by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the way the morning light catches the curve of her cheek.

A strange warmth spreads through my chest. It's disconcerting, this softness I feel watching her. I'm more of a don’t let them get too close kind of guy, but Sofia… she's already slipping past my defenses.

I resist the urge to reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. Instead, I lie still, savoring this moment of peace before the day begins. Before she wakes and the walls go back up between us.

Sofia stirs, mumbling something incoherent. I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting her to catch me staring. But as she stretches and her eyes flutter open, I can't help but steal another glance.

Our eyes meet, and for a brief moment, I see vulnerability in her gaze before her usual icy mask slides into place.

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