Page 38 of Forced Bratva Hostage

Hell no, she’s not walking away from me. I want to know.

I move quickly around the other side of the desk and block her off, stepping close to her, I force her back up against the wall.

She looks at me with innocence in her eyes but a sly smile on her lips. My pulse quickens.

“Did you need something, Andrei?” She asks sweetly, throwing my own words back at me.

“What business background do you have?” I ask again, setting my hand against the wall on the side of her head, making it clear that I’m not moving or letting her go until she answers.

“Why does it matter?”

“I want to know. That’s all that matters.”

“Why would I care about what you want?”

Her attitude is getting to me. I push closer, locking her against the wall, my face inches from hers.

I’m thinking about kissing her again.

I’m thinking about the pool and what it felt like to slip my fingers inside her.

Dammit.

With a deep breath, I close my eyes for a second. I can’t be making the same mistake twice. Her body already feels too good trapped beneath mine, and I desperately want to touch her again.

“I was impressed with your answer,” I confess, hoping that my compliment will defuse her sassy defensiveness and get her to tell me what I want to know.

She tilts her head to the side, examining my face, searching for any hint that I’m lying or taunting her. But I’m not, and I think she can see that. Still, I push more to try and reassure her.

“Seriously, it was a well-thought-out answer, and something my team hadn’t considered until you mentioned it. You must have some business experience.”

She huffs and shakes her head.

“I don’t.”

“Then what—"

I take a step away from her because being this close isn’t helping anything. She eases a little, her shoulders relaxing as she takes a deep breath, still leaning against the wall.

“I used to get bored at home and sneak into my brother’s office when he wasn’t around. I spent a number of hours going through his documents and teaching myself about the business because he refused to teach me anything. It was a way to stay busyandto understand what he did, because he always tried to keep it a secret. I don’t really like secrets.”

She shrugs, biting at the inside of her cheek.

I chuckle, imaging how furious Boris would have been if he had caught her snooping around like that.

“Did you and your brother get on?” I ask. “Were you guys close?”

She snorts loudly. “Hardly. I don’t think Boris even knew I existed most of the time. He and I have never even had a decent conversation. From the moment I was born, I think I was just a pesky little annoyance in his life that he wished he could throw away.”

She spits the words as though she’s angry, or maybe it’s the hurt I see in her expression. Then she realizes how much she’s said and bites her lip, looking anywhere but at me. “I don’t care, though. It doesn’t matter,” she tries to brush it off.

“So, not much in terms of brotherly love,” I say quietly, watching her face.

“Half-brother. He’s only my half-brother,” she says, as though it really matters to her. “Our father had a one-night stand or something after Boris’s mom passed away. That woman dumped me at his doorstep when I was a few weeks old.”

“And did you get on with your dad?” I ask, curious to know about her.

“My dad was amazing. He was good to me. But when he died, my life changed. And he died way too soon.” The pain in her voice is clear.

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