Page 5 of The Bratva's Innocent Sold Bride
We had a little back and forth, him cajoling, me standing firm. He still never came out and said I was fired and didn’t have a job to go to, so I finally caved and outright asked.
“Are you going to send word from the top that Celine Brighton is no longer on the payroll?”
He shook his head. “That would certainly tip someone off, wouldn’t it? I’d get some lower-level manager to give you the axe.”
I swallowed hard, trying to decide if I should give up with dignity or keep fighting when he was so clearly going through something. Before I could decide, he patted my hand.
“Keep the job,” he said. “I’m proud of your hard work. But if anyone finds out who you really are, you’re out. Got it?”
The chair nearly toppled, so I was quick to jump out of it and give him a hug. He looked like he’d gone nine rounds with a heavyweight and was pulling his phone out as I left the dining room. Poor Malina’s delicious meal was largely untouched since we’d both been so preoccupied with our own problems.
“Dad, please get a checkup if you think you need one,” I said, holding onto the doorway and watching as his hands trembled while he tapped out a text message.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Go, let me work.”
He’d refuse to believe he needed one, but now that Rinda was tipped off, she’d make him an appointment, and he’d go to it to avoid his steely assistant’s bad temper. Or maybe he really did just need a vacation.
As I made my way up to my room to sort through my new clothes and start reading the Taurus Ingenuity employee manuals, the doorbell rang. At this time of evening, Jackson would be enjoying his own dinner, so I called out that I’d get it and skipped happily to the door.
“Wait,” my father bellowed from behind me.
It was too late, I already swung the big front door open, and my mouth just about dropped as smoothly as the well-oiled hinges. Who was this hunk of man? Normally, Dad’s associates were all pale, skinny, and slightly stooped from all the time hunched over a screen. This man was tan, built like an MMA fighter—yes, I sometimes watched; it was a guilty pleasure—and had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. My mind was already cataloging all the other blue things in the world his eyes put to shame when he stepped through the doorway, crowding in on me.
I looked up and up since he was at least eight inches taller than me, maybe a foot. I was trapped in his eyes, which were a bit fierce as he took me in. His dark brows were drawn together as he kept coming into the house, making me back up or collide with his very firm body.
“Get your boss,” he said, his deep voice clipped, with a hint of a Russian accent.
He was gorgeous, but completely obnoxious. “Do you mean my father?” I said.
His look of anger quickly evaporated, and he looked me over again, a slow smile of appreciation making my palms sticky.I had to repress the urge to straighten my top after his gaze lingered on my chest before those blue eyes met mine again.
“Oh, you’re the charming daughter that Gordon’s so proud of?”
Now that he knew I wasn’t the hired help, he was prepared to try to win me over. Sorry, but it took more than a face that could be on billboards or a body that I could climb like a mountain. Still, I forced a charming smile for Dad’s benefit.
“CJ!” My father rushed in from the dining room, stopping dead when he saw who the uninvited guest was. “Go to your room at once.”
The dark stranger snickered, and my cheeks burst into flame. Like I was six years old. Dad’s voice brooked no argument, though, and I turned away as he told the man he supposed they should talk.
“I think so,” he answered gruffly, the accent stronger and somewhat intimidating.
It gave me the shivers, and when I reached the end of the hall, I turned back to watch them walking toward my father’s office. Should I be worried? Something about that man rang all sorts of alarm bells, but we had security at the gate who would have been here by now if he wasn’t welcome. Just because the man shook me up with his proprietary gaze, like he was cataloging all my parts, didn’t mean he was dangerous.
Except, there was no way that man wasn’t dangerous.
But who would want to hurt my father? He kept to himself and worked tirelessly to improve his company. He was a bastion of society. And we had security ready at the push of a button.
There was no forgetting those blue eyes, but I made myself try. I had much more important things to do now that I got to keep my job.
Chapter 4 - Mat
There were a few pictures of Celine Jane Taurus on the internet, but not as many as some young women of her wealth. She didn’t plaster herself all over social media and had no accounts of her own that I could find. She was only snapped at a couple of charity galas, looking like she didn’t want to be there or have her picture taken.
None of the photos could have ever captured her beauty, which was why I mistook her when she first opened the door. The woman before me was perfect, ethereal. Anyone who heard my thoughts would have laughed, but she was like a goddess.
Her chestnut brown hair was in a smooth, low ponytail I already longed to wrap it around my fist. The top of her head came to my chin as I stepped into the house, a surprisingly modest abode for someone as rich as Gordon. It probably only had nine bedrooms. She wore a simple green suit that accentuated every perfect curve.
My hands curled, wanting to smooth them down her sides, grip her lush hips, drag her to me to kiss that sweet, open mouth. As gorgeous as she was, I didn’t have time for a dalliance with one of Gordon’s employees. She clamped it shut as soon as I mistook her for the maid.
