Page 59 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

Sofia nods, her eyes dancing with anticipation. "Why not? We're already pretending to be normal people on vacation. Might as well take it a step further and go back to that night we first got together."

I consider it for a moment. The thought of Sofia in disguise, pretending not to know me, sends an unexpected thrill through me. It reminds me of back when I took her to the closet, the thrill of it still seeps through me. "Alright," I agree, surprised by my own eagerness. "Let's do it."

Her smile widens, and I feel a flutter in my chest. "Perfect. Meet me at the Oceanview Bar at nine. And Vlad?" She leans in close, her breath tickling my ear. "Don't be late."

As she saunters away, I'm left wondering what I've gotten myself into—and why I'm so excited about it.

***

I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting the blond wig on my head. It feels strange to see a different man staring back at me. The blue contact lenses completely transform my usually dark gaze. I've swapped my usual attire for a garish Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts—the perfect tourist disguise.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter to myself, but I can't help the smirk tugging at my lips.

I hear Sofia's laughter from the bathroom. "That's the point, Darling. Now, no peeking!"

The anticipation builds as I wait, curious to see her transformation. When she finally emerges, my breath catches. She's donned a short brunette bob, her green eyes now a deep brown. A slinky red dress hugs her curves, making her almost unrecognizable.

"Well?" she asks, twirling slowly. "Will I pass as a stranger?"

I clear my throat, suddenly dry. "Definitely. You look… different."

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the pleased smile she tries to hide. "Such a way with words, Vlad. Now remember, we don't know each other. I'm Natasha, the bored housewife on vacation."

"And I'm… Adam," I decide, cringing at the name. "Tourist from New York."

Sofia—no, Natasha—grins. "Perfect. Let the game begin."

At the bar, I settle onto a stool, ordering a vodka neat. My eyes scan the room, searching for her. When she enters, the entire atmosphere shifts. She moves with a confidence that draws every eye in the room.

I watch as she approaches, her hips swaying. She takes the seat next to me, flashing a coy smile.

"This seat taken?" she purrs, her voice pitched lower than usual.

I shake my head, playing along. "Not at all. Can I buy you a drink… miss?"

"Natasha," she offers, extending her hand. "And I'd love a martini, dirty."

As I order her drink, I lean closer. "I'm Adam. What brings a beautiful woman like you here alone?"

She sighs dramatically. "Oh, you know how it is. My husband's always working, and I needed to get away. And you?"

I try really not to chuckle at the dramatic hand motion that comes with her exasperation. But, I let out a snort.

I see her throw a scathing look my way and suddenly feel so damn free. So damn at ease. This is fun.

"Just a man on vacation, looking for adventure," I pick up the conversation, surprised by how easily the lies flow.

Natasha leans in, her fingers brushing my arm. "Well, Adam, you might just be in luck. I'm in the mood for some… excitement tonight."

The air between us crackles with tension. I'm torn between staying in character and pulling her close, kissing those tempting lips. Instead, I play it cool.

"Is that so?" I murmur, letting my gaze linger on her mouth. "What kind of excitement did you have in mind?"

The tension between us builds as she leans in closer, her breath hot against my ear. "Why don't I show you?" she whispers, her hand sliding up my thigh.

My heart races, the line between our roles and reality blurring. I turn to face her, our lips mere inches apart. "Careful what you wish for," I growl, my voice low and husky.

She bites her lip, green eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm not afraid of a little danger."

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