Page 65 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

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Soon after, we sit at the bar, sipping on champagne. Vlad turns to me, "Sofia, we've covered a lot of ground tonight. What are your thoughts on the operation?"

His voice is soft, hesitant, as though he’s seeking something. Approval, maybe? It humbles me to see he cares what I think.

I take a moment, considering my words carefully. My brothers always kept me at arm's length from their business, but Vlad's openness ignites a spark of excitement within me.

"It's impressive," I say, my voice steady and confident. "The way you've integrated legitimate business with… other ventures. But I noticed a few areas where efficiency could be improved."

Vlad raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

"Your bartenders," I explain, gesturing toward the busy bar. "They're wasting time with unnecessary movements. A reorganization of their workspace could reduce manpower by one per station."

A ghost of a smile plays on Vlad's lips. "Anything else?"

I straighten my shoulders, meeting his gaze. "The high-roller room. It's too isolated. You're missing opportunities to entice more players. Perhaps a more visible location, with one-way glass for privacy?"

Vlad nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Perceptive. I'll have my team look into both suggestions."

We fall into a comfortable silence, moving to stand side by side overlooking the bustling casino floor. The cacophony of slot machines and excited chatter fills the air, but I find myself focused on Vlad's steady presence beside me.

For the first time in years, I feel a sense of purpose washing over me. Here, in this world of glitz and shadow, I belong. Not as a pretty ornament or a bargaining chip, but as a partner. An equal.

I glance at Vlad, catching him watching me with an unreadable expression. "What?" I ask, curious to see what’s on his mind.

He shakes his head, a rare, genuine smile gracing his features. "Nothing, really. I'm just thinking that perhaps this our teamwork functions better than either of us anticipated."

I feel a warmth bloom in my chest, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome. "Don't get ahead of yourself," I retort, but there's no real bite to my words. "We still have a long way to go."

Vlad chuckles, the sound low and rich. "Indeed we do, Sofia. Indeed we do."

Chapter 23 - Vladimir

The cool night air hits us as Sofia and I step out of the casino's glittering entrance. Her skin glows under the light, and there is not a single strand of hair out of place on her head. I can't help but admire how she carries herself with such grace and poise.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" I ask, guiding her toward our waiting car with a light touch on her lower back.

Sofia turns those piercing green eyes on me, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Very much so," she replies, her voice cool and composed as always. "Though I must say, some of your associates could use lessons in subtlety."

I chuckle, remembering how they pulled our legs about marriage, opening the car door for her. "You handled them beautifully. I'm proud of you, Sofia. You fit right in."

As we settle into the plush leather backseat, I catch a glimpse of her raised eyebrow. "Did you expect anything less, Vlad?" she quips, smoothing her dress. "I am an Orlov, after all."

"Indeed you are," I murmur, unable to keep the admiration from my voice. This woman continues to surprise me at every turn.

The car pulls away from the curb, the lights of the casino fading behind us. I'm just starting to relax when my phone buzzes insistently in my pocket. Frowning, I fish it out, noting the late hour.

"Speak," I answer, my tone clipped.

As I listen to the frantic voice on the other end, I feel my expression darken. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sofiawatching me intently, her earlier playfulness replaced by keen observation.

"I understand. We're on our way," I growl into the phone, ending the call with more force than necessary.

"Trouble?" Sofia asks, her voice deceptively casual.

I meet her gaze, seeing the sharp intelligence there. Despite my instinct to shield her, I know she deserves the truth. "There's been an incident at the diamond factory," I explain, already feeling the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders.

“What sort of incident?” she asks immediately.

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