Page 38 of Bratva's Intern

Maxim tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re holdingyourself back, like you’re waiting to fail. Like you don’t belong here.”

I swallowed, my throat dry. “Because I don’t.” My voice was quieter now, rougher. “I don’t fit in. Everything is too much. You are too much. This whole place—” I gestured vaguely toward the door. “It’s not me. Sure, I could do it if I were just an intern copying some papers, but I know nothing about you and your business.”

Maxim studied me for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. “You work directly for me. You have more clout in this office than you realize. If you say I’m unavailable, no one gets through that door. If you tell someone to leave, they leave. And do you know why?”

I exhaled sharply. “Because you’re my boss?”

“No.” He leaned in slightly. “Because I’m giving you that power.” For the first time, his voice held no anger, just certainty. “That’s all authority is, Wren. People listen to you because they know I have your back. But you need to act like it.”

I stared at him.

No one had ever put it like that.

“So, what?” I asked. “You want me to act like some kind of?—”

“Like someone who owns the position I gave him.” Maxim’s gaze locked onto mine. “I don’t need a doormat, Wren. I need someone who can stand firm. And that starts with you deciding to fucking try.”

My stomach twisted, but not in the same sick, shameful way it had earlier. This was something else.

This was responsibility.

This was expectation.

This was Maxim Morozov telling me he had my back. And dammit, for some inexplicable reason, I wanted to do my job well so he could be proud of me.

I took a slow breath.

“Why do you even care?” I asked. “I’ve done enough already for you to fire me. Is it because I saved you?”

“Precisely.”

“Oh.” Well, that sucked. What had I expected him to say?

“The next time you enter my office without knocking, I will punish you for it.”

My eyes went wide as I processed his words. Punish me? As in fire me? How else could a boss punish his employee? Surely not what was running through my mind?

“And if you let anyone else walk over you like that again,”—Maxim fixed me with a stare so intense it felt as though he were trying to see right through me—“I will punish you harder.”

A shudder ran through me. Not entirely unpleasant. The unorthodox nature of the threat felt like a jolt of electricity, invigorating every nerve in my body.

“Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Morozov, sir.”

“Maxim.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be working closely with me from now on, Wren. When we are in private, you are excused to call me Maxim.”

“Yes, sir—I mean, Maxim.”

“Now let’s go shopping.”

“You don’t…” One sharp glance from him, and I bit back the words.

“Good. You’re learning.”

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