Page 9 of Bratva's Intern

I positioned my lips on the paper cup and took a gulp of the hot liquid. The young man’s mouth fell open. The coffee was hot and bitter, just the way I liked it.

“I already started drinking that!”

“Oh?” I took another sip, then placed the cup on the table before him. “Since I paid for it, I thought I should at least have a taste. What’s the matter? Not keen on drinking after a stranger?”

“Hah! You think I’m going to waste good coffee because you drank some?” As though to disprove my point, he turned the cup to his lips and took a drink as well. My gut tightened at those plump lips, settling in the same spot where mine might have just been.

Farfetched, but the idea was strangely… arousing.

“Did you want something?” the young man asked. “I hope it’s not an apology.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but just then, my phone vibrated. A glance at the screen showed Sergei wanted to know where I was on my own. A six-foot-six, grown-ass man made of all muscle and grit should be embarrassed to use so many emoji in a text message, but not Sergei. He was livid, and I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t supposed to leave the office on my own.

“Well?” The insufferable boy seemed to be waiting for some kind of response. He was sassy, but his attitude didn’t grate on my nerves as would have been the case had anyone else spoken to me in such a condescending tone.

“You did steal my coffee, so an apology isn’t so farfetched, is it?” I asked, reluctant to leave. “Unfortunately, duty calls, so I can’t stick around for one, but you enjoy the rest of my coffee and have a good day.”

I pulled myself away from the table and headed for the exit. Going to the coffee shop on my own had indeed been impulsive, but I didn’t regret it.

As I stepped onto the sidewalk, the cool morning air prickled against my skin. I hadn’t taken more than two strides before Sergei, my vigilant bodyguard, materialized in front of me. He blocked my path, arms crossed and brows furrowed in disapproval.

“You know it’s not safe for you to be out here on your own,” Sergei said, his gravelly voice tinged with frustration. “Have you forgotten about the threats you received? We still don’t know who is behind them.”

“I wasn’t ‘on my own.’” I motioned toward the coffee shop. “I was surrounded by people.”

“Surrounded isn’t the same as secure,” he shot back. “You need to take these things seriously, Maxim. You pay me to keep you safe so let me do my damn job. Don’t make it difficult.”

I sighed, glancing over my shoulder at the café. Inside, people sipped their lattes, oblivious to the life I lived—or the risks that came with it. “I’m fine, Sergei. Let’s go.”

I took a step forward.

“Wait!”

I turned, half expecting it to be one of the baristas with a fresh cup of coffee, but it was him—the sharp-tongued kid from the line.

He stopped before me, slightly out of breath. “Look,” he said, his voice softer now but still laced with that underlying conviction. “I didn’t mean to steal your coffee. That wasn’t fair, even to prove a point.”

He was apologizing to me?

“So, you admit you’re a thief?”

His lips twitched, and he looked ready to argue again, then seemed to think better of it. He shook his head. “I’ll pay for it.”

He pulled out a battered wallet and thumbed through the few bills and coins inside. After a moment’s hesitation, hepulled out two crumpled bills and a handful of coins. It wasn’t much, and it looked like all he had. He held the money out to me, his expression serious.

“Here. This should cover it.”

I stared at the money, then at him. “You’re giving me the last of what you have for a cup of coffee?”

He shrugged. “It’s not about the coffee. It’s about the principle. What happens if people stop following the rules? If no one stands in line, if no one waits their turn?” His gaze met mine with quiet intensity. “It’d be pure chaos.”

The tension between us hung in the air, heavy with something I couldn’t quite name. He held the money out. I finally shook my head.

“Keep it.” I pushed his hand back toward him. “I don’t need your money.”

“I insist.”

He did that a lot. Insisted. As if he had any sort of authority. It was laughable.

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