Page 15 of Bratva's Intern

“You took your break and for far longer than you should have.”

Greg froze, clearly not expecting me to argue. He recovered quickly, though, narrowing his eyes. “Are you talking back to me? I oughta throw you out of my restaurant. Don’t forget you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place. I chose you out of the goodness of my heart, but I can easily fix that. Newsflash, Wren, guys like you don’t exactly have employers lining up to hire them.”

That stung, but I refused to let him see it. I crossed my arms and waited. This was the last time I would hear his rants. I would miss them like a bullet to the head.

“You want to keep your job?” Greg asked, his voice softer. The shift in his tone set off warning bells in my head.

“What?”

Greg smirked, stepping even closer, crowding me against the locker until there was barely any space between us. “Well, if you’re really sorry for your actions and are desperate to stay, I could… make an exception.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know.” He placed a hand on my waist. My skin crawled.

I shoved him in the chest and moved away from the locker so he couldn’t come closer. “What the hell, Greg!”

He scowled as though me rejecting him was the problem. Of all the things I expected from Greg,thiswasn’t one of them. Sure, he was a jerk—a colossal one—but I never thought he’d stoop this low.

“Relax, Wren. We’re just two guys. Nobody got hurt, and I was trying to help you out.”

“Help me out?” I ripped the apron from around my waist. “You think I’d resort tothatjust to keep this job? You’ve got a serious problem, Greg. I suggest you learn how to fuck yourself because you’re sure as hell not touching me. I quit!” I threw the apron at him. It crumpled into a heap at his feet. “You’re a terrible boss, and I hope all the staff walk out on you during rush hour so you learn how to appreciate them.”

I grabbed my things from the locker and stormed out without looking back. With this internship, I could gain valuable experience that would make my résumé look good. If I didn’t end up working for Morozov’s after my internship ended, their company on my résumé would still stand out.

As I stepped outside, a wave of heat hit me. A woman walking by stopped abruptly, then hurried across the street. Shit, I was grinning like a rabid dog, but it felt good to walk away from the fast-food restaurant. A laugh bubbled up from my chest as I turned toward the bus stop.

CHAPTER FIVE

MAXIM

“Can you describe a time when you had to manage multiple high-priority tasks at once, and how did you ensure everything was completed on time?”

I nodded in approval of the question Archie posed to the woman sitting across from us as if she was facing down a firing squad. To give her credit, her experience showed in the way she didn’t even bat an eye when we isolated her while the rest of us—myself, Archie, the HR Director, and one of our senior executives—took a seat at the other side of the table. She remained unflappable, spine straight, hands folded neatly on top of the table, and a pleasant smile etched on her lips.

Her voice had a nice cadence to it when she responded to every question with perfectly rehearsed answers. She was fit for the job, and yet…

“Certainly. While working with Foster and Finch, I had?—”

The doors to the elevator opened, and two figuresemerged. Our asset manager, Bradley, was laughing at whatever Wren had said to him. Nothing about Wren struck me as funny.

Frowning, I gripped my pen between my fingers. I had the sudden urge to relocate Bradley to our office in Alaska. And only because Antarctica wasn’t an option. Though I could probably make it work.

I scowled. At the back of my mind, I was aware the woman was still speaking. Her name had slipped me, but I made no attempt to recall it. Instead, my gaze remained steadfast beyond the glass wall, locking onto something far more interesting.

Wren followed Bradley closely, oblivious to the way my attention latched on to him like a predator tracking prey. It was his second day at the company. Yesterday, I hadn’t been in because I was attending a funeral for one of my fallen men, but Archie had kept me up to date with everything that happened.

“He tries. He really does, but he’s not too bright. Are you sure you want to keep him on?”

But what choice did I have?

He was deep in conversation with Bradley. They were standing next to Bradley’s desk—way too close. Every so often, they would move toward each other, their sides touching. The pen snapped in two, and I let the pieces fall to the table. He had no right to be on this floor. He didn’t have the clearance.

Wren laughed, throwing his head back, and his whole face lit up. He wasn’t classically handsome, but he was cute. Was Bradley attracted to him? He had a spouse, but they were openly poly. Was he looking to lure Wren into their bed?

I curled my fingers slightly over the edge of the table. I didn’t like the ease in Wren’s expression, the casual brush ofshoulders. Too comfortable for a second day. Too familiar. He should still be mixing up everybody’s names.

The muscles in my jaw tensed. Bradley leaned in, his body language open, inviting. Something inside me twisted. It was ridiculous—childish, even. But the way Wren’s lips quirked, the way his body tilted toward the other man, gnawed at me. Was he always like this? So quick to form bonds? So eager to be liked?

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