Page 30 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession
“Next time,” I found myself saying, “just ask. If you want to go out, just... ask.”
Surprise flickered across her face. “Really?”
“Within reason,” I added quickly.
She nodded, and a smile broke out. “Deal.”
As she walked away toward her room, I found myself watching her go, unable to tear my eyes away from the sway of her hips, the confident set of her shoulders. I felt something shift between us for the first time since bringing her here. This afternoon, sitting across from her in that café, walking beside her on the sidewalk, had been the closest thing to a real date I'd had in years.
And the most disturbing part? I enjoyed it. Not just because Elena was beautiful, though she undeniably was, with her curves and those expressive hazel eyes, but because of her. Her sass, her wit, her independence, her refusal to be bought. The way she savored that damn coffee like it was the finest thing she'd ever tasted.
Standing there in my entryway, watching her disappear down the hallway, I realized with a jolt of something like panic that I was attracted to Elena Lebedev.
And I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was going to do about that.
Chapter 11 - Elena
I was sitting in the salon chair with my eyes closed, feeling blissful for the first time in days.
“Ah, I’ve reached heaven,” I moaned as the masseuse dug into my scalp, giving me a head massage before I got my wash and blowout. It had been three days since Gastone caught me at the café, and since then, he followed through on his promise.
The rules were simple. I had to inform him when I stepped out and let him know where I was going. I tested it out yesterday when I stepped out to buy some books, and to my surprise, he insisted I take the car.
This morning, however, I said I’d prefer to walk, and he didn’t even flinch. He simply told me to have a good day and left for work while I ate breakfast. I had my whole morning planned out. A day at the salon was just what I needed.
After the massage and wash, I made my way to the hairdresser’s chair.
“Just a little trim, honey?” the stylist asked, her fingers running through my hair with practiced ease.
“Oh, why not?” I grinned. I hadn’t planned on a trim, but might as well. I could now, I thought to myself gleefully. I had the freedom to do what I wanted. At last.
For a second, I felt grateful to Gastone. But just as quick, shut that thought down. I wondered if I was going crazy being grateful for basic human privileges from the man who'd kidnapped me. He might have listened, but that didn’t mean he was good.
Wanting to exercise my freedom a little more, I looked at the hairdresser in the mirror. “Do you think you could give me some layers?” I asked sweetly.
“Oh darling,” she gushed. “To frame that pretty face, I know just what to deliver.”
***
Once I paid the bill, I stepped out into broad daylight, and that’s when I caught sight of him from the corner of my eye. Dom. He tried to turn around, but I’d recognize that hulk of a man anywhere.
I watched as he tried to walk away, ever so slowly, so slowly in fact that I knew he was waiting to turn back and follow when the scene was clear. Even if he tried, he couldn’t blend in with that Italian suit he wore on such a hot day.
Shaking my head, I walked right up to him.
“Doooomm,” I sang, catching up and tapping his shoulder. He stopped and turned, giving me a rather woeful look.
“Having a day out?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. What was I thinking? Of course, Gastone had me followed. Of course, he didn’t tell me because he thought I’d have put up a fight or something.
Which I would have. A hundred percent. But still, a heads-up would have been nice.
“Something like that, Miss. Elena,” Dom said, shuffling on my feet.
I crossed my arms in front of me and glared at him. “You’re following me, aren’t you?”
“I was just—”
“Don’t lie to me,” I said, feeling an excuse coming my way.
