Page 7 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

I could feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through me, but I maintained my composure, offering a polite smile.

He continued, “You've demonstrated a certain…flair for the game, and my employer believes your level of strategic thinking is quite rare.”

My cheeks flushed at his remark. “Well, thank you. I just try to stay focused.”

He shot a quick look at the other players, their faces a clear indication that they were still reeling at my win. “Indeed,” he said before looking right at me. “Ms. O'Brian, I'm pleased to inform you that we've agreed to move forward with the deal on account of your…remarkable skills tonight.”

Shut the front door!I exclaimed internally, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest.

I’d actually closed the deal. There was no way Dad was going to overlook this one; it was a big win, and it was achieved by me. Not him, not Liam, not Connor—me.

“Thank you, Mr. Cane.” I rose to my feet, beaming. “Now what?”

“Now we wait to discuss the finer details of the deal with your brother, Liam,” he said, a hand sliding into his pocket.

Wait, what?

My smile faltered. Was he being serious right now? After all the effort I’d put into securing this deal, he was just going to wait for my brother?

“But Liam's not here. I am,” I stated as though he didn't already know that. A pang of irritation swelled up within me, and I could feel my heart burning with resentment.

“That is correct,” he said with a stern and unapologetic tone. “However, in order for the deal to be struck, your brother's presence is of the utmost importance.”

I clenched my jaw, my scowl deepening as a spark of annoyance jolted across my body. This must be some elaborate joke. What did this man and his organization take me for, a fucking placeholder? It was obvious that these people saw me as nothing but a stand-in for my brother rather than a legitimate player in my own right.

Fuck you, Edward, and fuck your organization, too,I thought to myself, but in reality, I managed to squeeze out a plastic smile, my lips twitching at the corners. “I understand,and thank you once again.” I extended a hand, refraining from using it to slap him across the face.

He nodded, shaking my hand.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to powder my nose,” I said, leaving the table, embarrassed and angry.

“Tessa,” Connor called softly, clearly knowing that I was upset.

I ignored him and quickened my pace, in desperate need of some fresh air. He knew better than to follow me because, honestly, with how pissed off I was, I would've buried my crush for him and yelled in his face.

I strolled over to the bar and slid onto the stool, my teeth gritting in an attempt to contain my anger and disappointment.

“What can I get you?” the bartender, a tall woman with a dragon tattoo on her neck, asked me.

“Just a whiskey, please. On the rocks,” I replied, seething silently.

The bartender nodded, grabbed a glass filled with ice, and poured a generous measure of amber liquid into it. “Rough night?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

I let out a wry, humorless laugh, accepting the glass from her. “You have no idea.” I raised it to my lips and took a sip.

I felt the burn in my throat as the whiskey kicked in, a welcome distraction from the anger simmering beneath the surface. With a deep breath, I release a heavy sigh, feeling the warmth spread across my chest.

My eyes narrowed as I thought about the unfairness of how I was treated that night, and that was when I noticed him.

This strange man stood just beyond the edge of my vision, his presence commanding attention. I looked in his direction, and a shiver ran down my spine. My heart paused for a moment as our eyes met.

He was tall, handsome, and broad-shouldered, with an intimidating pair of piercing green eyes that seemed to bore into my very soul. The intensity of his gaze stole my breath away, leaving me almost utterly mesmerized.

His dark hair was neatly styled, highlighting the sharp angles of his chiseled face. With a slow, deliberate movement, he stepped forward, those green eyes never leaving mine. “Impressive game back there,” he said, his lips curling into a small smile that revealed a fraction of his perfectly white teeth.

I felt a flutter in my chest, and my cheeks flushed at his remark.

My eyes fell away from his, a faint grin playing on my lips. “Thank you.”

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