Page 65 of Forced Bratva Kidnapped Virgin
At the base of the stairs, I heard the faint sound of classical music coming from the dining area. I drew a breath, locked my jaw, and walked into the room with my head held up high.
He was seated at the head of the table, clad in a black suit, exuding his usual air of confidence. He wasn’t kidding last night when he told me not to get used to that put-together version of him.
Nial had returned to his old self this morning—tousled hair, gloved hands, and a loose tie. I wasn’t shocked, nor was I disappointed. He still looked ridiculously attractive.
“You sure took your time,” he said, meeting my gaze across the room, his jaw moving as he chewed.
“I overslept,” I said, taking my seat at the table.
“I’m sure you did.”
Embarrassed, I lowered my head slightly, adjusting in my chair.
The air was filled with the buttery scent of toasted bread and freshly brewed coffee. Golden scrambled eggs and crisp strips of bacon were laid out neatly on the table.
A small plate of flaky croissants, still warm from the oven, sat beside a bowl of fresh berries. The mouthwatering aroma drifted through the dining area, warm and inviting.
Too shy to meet his gaze, I sat across from him in silence, my emotions churning.
He reached for his mug, lifted it to his lips, and sipped his coffee. Neither of us said a word, the silence stretching by the minute. Until he broke it.
“You can resume work tomorrow. Finish your ongoing case.”
I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth. My head tilted upward, my eyes meeting his in an instant.
Did I hear him correctly, or was my mind playing games with me?
He continued, his cutlery clinking against his plate. “Once that is done, you will step back and take a break. Until the baby is born.”
A wind of relief washed over me, and I should be thankful. But at the same time, I couldn’t help feeling irritated by the fact that he was still deciding for me.
“You do realize you’re talking about Vika’s case, the Bratva’s arrogant brat,” I said, my voice low and even.
A pause.
“You were right.” He leaned in, his gaze unwavering. “That asshole deserves to be punished.”
I was right?
Did Nial just say that I was right?
My expression remained neutral even as my heart swelled with something unnamed.
He looked me dead in the eye. “You do what you do best and make sure it fuckin’ hurts.”
Those words and his dangerous tone sparked something fierce inside me, something encouraging. I leaned back in my chair, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
What did this mean?
Were we no longer on opposite sides of the law? Or was this a one-time thing because he, too, was sick of that arrogant prick?
Chapter 22 — Nial
I sat in my office, reviewing pending files, when the door opened and a man walked in. It wasn’t Boris, as I’d expected. The cologne that filled my space was sharper and more expensive. Familiar.
He walked right in, shoes scuffing against the floor.
Without raising my head, I said with a calm voice, “You really need to stop showing up unannounced. One call before you arrive won’t kill you.”
