Page 43 of Daddy Brigadier

“I …” But the words catch in my throat. “You hardly know me.”

It’s been a few weeks since I first approached the Brigadier in the elevator, even though I’d been watching him for months. Each sighting filled me with a thrill that’s hard to describe. How can someone like Valentin want to be with me, and why would he?

“That’s a pretty dress,” he comments, lifting his wine glass to his lips while his eyes linger on my chest, on my deep cleavage barely concealed by the fabric.

“Thank you,” I respond, instinctively crossing my arms over my breasts.

“Did you get that at a mall?”

I set my wine glass down on the table, taken aback by the question, but I reply, “I did.”

“I’ve never been to a mall. They sound quite busy?”

I laugh softly. “So, where do you shop for your clothes then?”

The glass pauses at his lips, hinting at his amusement at my question. “My suit guy comes to my house.”

Of course, someone like the Brigadier has a ‘personal suit guy.’

“How does he know what you want?”

“When I was younger, choosing a suit used to take me hours. Now, he shows up, and in five minutes I can have a whole new wardrobe.”

I take a moment to admire the black suit that fits him perfectly and wonder if I’d find anything else in his closet besides a hundred black suits.

“Do you know why that is?” he asks me.

I shake my head. But I’m guessing it’s because his tailor knows exactly what he likes.

“With age comes wisdom, and you realize there’s no need to wander through a mall. A single glance is all it takes for me to decide what I want to buy.”

He places his wine glass on the table and stands behind me, taking the collar from the box and fastening it tight around my neck. His fingers trail delicately along my collarbone, igniting a shiver that dances its way down my spine.

Leaning in closer, his breath caresses my ear as he softly whispers, “I own you now, Krasotka.”

Running my fingers along the V on my throat, I contemplate how enticing it would be to belong to him.

Just then, my cellphone buzzes, breaking my train of thought. I shake my head to clear it and look down at the screen. Robyn has sent a picture of the man I’m supposed to kill tonight.

“Everything good?” Valentin tilts his head, his curiosity piqued by my distraction.

“Yeah, sorry.” I look around the busy restaurant and find the man sitting two tables away from me.

The waiter steps in to take our order, catching me off guard. “Oh,” I exclaim, flipping through the menu in a rush.

“We’ll have two porterhouses,” Valentin orders decisively, not even glancing at me.

I smile and hand the menu to the waiter.

Valentin takes his time sipping his wine, the weight of his stare making me feel uncomfortable and seen at the same time.

He remains silent for what feels like an eternity, and I can’t let the moment linger any longer. “What’s on your mind?”

“That I want to know everything about you.”

“There’s really nothing to share,” I say, fiddling with the pendant, my gaze avoiding his.

“Oh, I think there’s a lot.”