Page 4 of Bratva's Intern

Still, I waited.

I hugged my knees to my chest and stayed there, watching.

Because Dad promised.

And promises always mattered.

Didn’t they?

CHAPTER ONE

WREN

The smell of grease clung to me as I dropped my bag on the carpet and collapsed onto the couch, face first into the cracked leather cushions. Ten hours at the Grill & Gather had left me somewhere between dying and dead. Across the room, Jessica giggled, perched on her throne of a plush armchair like some reality TV queen.

“How can you even laugh when I’m suffering?” I groaned, my voice muffled against the couch.

“Because it’s cute,” she said, her voice syrupy and teasing. “Besides, it can’t be that bad working at a fast-food restaurant.”

I flipped her the bird without looking up. “Time of death, four twenty-five. Cause: capitalism.”

She snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re so beautiful it makes me sick,” I shot back, rolling onto my side to glare at her.

Jessica wasn’t just gorgeous; she was goddess-level stunning—the kind of beauty that inspired wars in olden days. But shealso happened to be the kindest person I knew. A lethal combination. In some alternate universe, I’d probably hate her guts.

“I told you I’d help you find a sugar Daddy,” she said. “The offer is still on the table. Hugh has lots of friends you may like.”

“Yeah, I’ll go out on a date with some rich guy in between my fifty-hour-a-week job and sleep. You know I just broke up with my boyfriend, Jess.”

Plus, I wasn’t fond of the thought of sleeping with guys who had one foot in the grave. I didn’t mind a little older, but her Hugh was almost fifty years older. Not that they seemed to mind. They both got what they wanted out of that relationship and seemed happy.

“Why did you guys break up again?” Jess arched an eyebrow. “Because Lyle asked you to marry him and you turned him down. If you’re not gonna live a reckless life like me, then why not get married?”

I flopped over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling with the peeling plaster. Maybe Hugh wouldn’t mind fixing it. He spent so much on Jessica. What was one more expenditure? He’d bought half the furniture in the apartment.

“Lyle understood.” He’d assured me he did and that he didn’t hate me for wasting the last two years of his life. “I’m way too young to get married. I haven’t even finished college yet. Why don’tyouget married? You and Mr. Millionaire have been together for like a gazillion years.”

Jessica laughed, crossing her long, tanned legs. “Hugh’s already married. Have you forgotten that?”

“Yeah, but that marriage doesn’t count. They practically live separate lives, and his wife knows about and approves of you.” I still didn’t get it. No way could I share someone I truly loved, but I didn’t judge. As long as Jess was happy.

“We have a spa day together this weekend.”

I slowly shook my head. “Oh, Most Revered Mistress, teach me your seductive ways. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

“You don’t, actually.”

Groaning, I pulled my aching limbs into an upright position on the couch. “I’m just joking. I envy you all the nice things, but not what you have to do to get them.”

“It’s not so bad.” She shrugged. “I enjoy taking care of his needs and seeing how satisfied he is after.”

“That’s because you’re a big people pleaser.”

“Maybe. Anyway, you keep looking over your shoulder for that Lyle. I know you said he took the breakup well, but I don’t trust a man who keeps a gun.”

“Jess, he’s a cop! Besides, he’s already transferred to a new city.”

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