Page 89 of Bratva's Intern

“I already told you. You have the authority to do anything in that office, and no one will question it.”

“What if I mess up?”

“What if you don’t?” He slid his hand across the leather seat and grabbed mine, the heat radiating from his palm offering an odd comfort. His fingers enclosed my hand in a firm yet gentle grip. I turned my head, my eyes catching his intense gaze. The whirlwind of emotions that had been raging within me quietened down. “You’re more capable than you think. Much more capable.”

Despite his reassurance, my gut churned. Three days in the office without Maxim.

I guess I’ll just have to fake it until I make it.

Too soon, Sergei pulled up outside my apartment building. New fear unlocked. What if, as soon as we were apart, Maxim realized he’d made a terrible mistake hooking up with me last night? And in the shower? And on the couch?

“Sergei, you don’t have to follow us.” Maxim opened the door.

“You know I can’t allow that.”

Maxim made a frustrated sound, but he didn’t argue with his bodyguard. I cringed. They took their job as Maxim’s bodyguard so seriously, and I’d caused Nik to lose his.

Maxim walked me inside while Sergei trailed behind, his presence a quiet reminder that nothing with Maxim was ever simple. The space between us buzzed with unspoken words, heavy with something I didn’t quite understand.

I hesitated for a moment, then tentatively took Maxim’s hand and laced my fingers through his. He tightened his grip immediately, warm and steady, sending a shiver up my spine. It was ridiculous how much comfort that simple squeeze gave me, how it settled the restless energy inside me that was screaming,what the hell are you doing?

By the time we reached my door, my stomach was a tangled mess of nerves. I swallowed, glancing up at him. “You didn’t have to walk me up,” I muttered, though the words felt weak.

Maxim didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and pressed it into my palm. The cool metal was stark against my skin.

“This is for my home,” he said, his voice calm but firm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to hand me a key to his place. “On Wednesday, go there after work and wait for me. We’ll have a lot of catching up to do.”

I stared at the key, my thoughts stumbling over themselves. This wasn’t casual. This wasn’t something you did for someone you planned to forget about in a few weeks.

But we’ve only just met.

But he’s Maxim Morozov.

But he can have anyone he wants.

Before I could find the words to ask what this meant, Maxim tilted my chin up. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and unreadable. “Now, kiss me good-bye.”

My breath hitched. I hesitated for only a second, then rose onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was meant to be quick, something light, barely more than a brush of skin, but Maxim had other ideas.

He pulled me flush against him, locking his arms around me as he deepened the kiss. Heat flared through me, my pulse stuttering at the way he took control, like he needed this asmuch as I did. He slid his hand down, gripped my ass, and tugged me even closer.

A strangled noise slipped from my throat before I could stop it. I clutched his shoulders, unsure if I was trying to steady myself or if I didn’t want to let go.

“Max,” I managed, my voice breathless against his mouth. “Sergei.”

Maxim didn’t give a damn. He moved his mouth over mine, possessive and unyielding, his hands roaming like he had every right to touch me this way, right here, right now.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I had to come up for air. “I really need to go in.” Or else I’d be inviting him inside. Screw those test results!

He exhaled sharply, loosening his grip just enough for me to slip away. Before I lost what little willpower I had left, I fumbled for the door and tumbled inside.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

The second the door clicked shut behind me, I leaned against it, pressing a hand to my chest, my heart pounding against my ribs.

A ridiculous smile spread across my face.

I was so fucked.

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