Page 13 of The Bratva's Prisoner Bride

But upon opening my eyes and looking around the room while the lingering sleep ebbed out of my system, it all hit me at once, plaguing me with a rush of fear, anger, and guilt.

Despite apparently sleeping long enough for the sun to rise and leak in through the windows, I hardly felt rested. My whole body ached as if I had just finished working a strenuous job, and I spent all night sleeping on the hard ground despite how that was very far from the truth.

The bed was more comfortable than I wanted to admit. Between the perfect softness of the mattress and the pillows that somehow screamed luxury, along with the silky sheets, thebed was almost heaven-sent—not that I wanted to give Ivan any credit.

He may have been a monster, but I had to admit that he at least had taste.

Still, I felt sleepless even while sleeping on the most comfortable mattress I had ever encountered. Restless.

There were too many unknowns ahead of me, and I hated that. I hated not knowing what he was up to, or how I could at least prepare myself.

His goal was apparently to make me pay for my involvement in everything, and that was far too vague to offer me even a morsel of reassurance.

The quiet click of the door unlocking made me tense at once, shifting to sit up. Immediate fear gripped me at the thought of it being Ivan.

But a small, almost hesitant knock sounded from the other side before the door eventually opened. A woman with cropped brown hair neatly tucked behind her ears poked her head in and glanced in my direction.

I had no idea who she was. I had never seen her before. Despite that, she offered me a small smile and entered the room carrying a tray in her hands.

She only had to take a few steps for me to smell the food beneath the silver lid, and while the situation was quick to make me queasy, the thought of filling my stomach again felt far too tempting.

"Good, you're awake," the woman said gently, mostly closing the door behind herself while she moved through the space. She went with practiced ease, placing the tray on the nightstand before taking the lid off and arranging everythingaccordingly. "After you eat and get cleaned up, Ivan wants to see you."

His name was enough to make me bristle while I stayed in bed, glancing at the omelet stuffed with fresh veggies and cheese, crisp bacon, and several triangles of golden toast. It looked so appetizing that I had half the mind to forget all about what she said.

He wanted to see me. I had the feeling that was a bad thing.

"Why?" I asked, voice more hoarse than I expected. "...why does he want to see me, I mean?"

The woman, who looked pretty young for being so settled and confident in her job, gave a quiet, thoughtful hum while she cracked the lid on a bottle of orange juice before pouring it into a glass. "He didn't say. I imagine he wants to touch base with you on your...arrangement."

Arrangement. The word felt so far off that the idea pulled a humorless huff from me.

"I'd hardly call it that."

While she wore a similar uniform to that of the guards earlier, the woman looked more understanding. Like she was hearing me out, regardless of Ivan being her boss.

"I suppose you're right. I'll be honest, as a housekeeper, I'm not usually allowed in the fold with this kind of thing. But, I only know he has requested to see you sooner rather than later."

She spoke to me so easily, as if I were an old friend, and it felt weird...but also nice.

Even if her features were a bit plain, something was calming and disarming about her brown eyes. The kindness in her gaze and movements made her look prettier, I thought.

As much as I wanted more information, I knew she was telling the truth. Why would Ivan bother divulging one of his maids in the gritty details?

"I guess I don't have much choice in it, do I?"

The faintest flicker of a smile reached the corners of her lips, and she gave me a decisive nod. "As much as I don't want to say it, that seems to be the case."

Aware that I'd have to face him eventually, despite how I much preferred the idea of staying out of his sight as much as possible at that moment, my stomach twisted at the prospect.

I knew how angry he had been with me the night before, using as many conflicting tactics as he could to confuse me. I didn't want to have to deal with that again...the teasing that came with how closely he talked to me, and the way he'd drop his voice to a silkier tone just to get a rise out of me. How he'd flip a switch and revert to his clipped, cold words meant to cut me in every way possible.

The prospect of even being near him felt like a mountain to climb, but something about the maid's friendly demeanor made me feel at least a little better about it.

"I won't pretend like I know how it feels to be in your place, but if I were you, I wouldn't take too long," she said gently, moving over to the standing wardrobe before opening the two wide doors to show its contents. "There are a few things in here to hold you over until some new items come in. Take your pick."

As much as a part of me didn't want to cooperate in the slightest, favoring the idea of staying in the room, I nodded. She was just so kind right out of the gate despite not knowing me, and the thought of pushing back against her wasn't very appealing.

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