Page 49 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

Her words set my face on fire, burning until my eyes began to sting. I wished I could vanish.

Truth was, I knew perfectly well I could never squeeze into these beautiful clothes. Stores like this tailored everything for slender, willowy models. My body was round, full, bordering on plump.

But the acidic feeling crawled up my throat anyway.

"Done picking?" A low voice cut through the space.

I instinctively turned toward it. The man I hadn't seen in so long walked toward us.

Matvey looked the same as always. Tall. Imposing. Just standing there, he made the luxurious backdrop fade. He wore no tie, just a sharply tailored black suit with the collar slightly open, the familiar black Bulgari watch on his wrist.

He walked right up to me. My heart fell with each step. But he didn't pause for a second, passing me by, taking that familiar scent of cedar and tobacco with him.

I stood there, lost, not sure which hurt more—being mocked earlier or being ignored now.

He stopped beside Veronica.

"You're finally here." She leaned against his shoulder, voice sweet and soft. "I've been picking forever, but I still can't decide."

Her fingertip traced down the lines of his suit. When she reached his abdomen, Matvey gently caught her wandering hand—like he was indulging her public mischief. The image pierced my tear ducts.

Matvey had touched my face with those hands. Kneaded my body. Set me on fire night after night.

Now his touch belonged to someone else.

I wished I could delete every memory of him. Then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

"Try whatever you want." Matvey released her hand. "Can't pick a favorite? Buy them all."

Veronica's gaze lingered on him before she reluctantly retreated to the fitting room. After the door closed, only elegant music filled the silence. Matvey and I stood a few steps apart, but it felt like an ocean between us.

His gaze landed on me. I quickly looked away, foolishly thinking that avoiding eye contact would spare me new trouble. I was dead wrong.

He was watching me—even without meeting his eyes, I felt the heat of his stare.

"Riley." He called my name.

That voice that could still make me weak.

"Yes, Mr. Bykov?" I had to look up.

He was still my boss. Still my transaction partner.

"You've been crying?" His brow furrowed deep.

Damn it, when did I cry? I rubbed my eyes hard. Good—no wetness.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." I turned my head away.

"Look at me, Riley." His tone turned commanding.

"Really, it's nothing." I didn't move.

He didn't care about me anyway. Why bother asking?

But he didn't seem ready to let it go. He closed the distance step by step until his shadow swallowed me whole.

I held my breath. That sharp cedar scent nearly stole my sanity. I backed away with each advance until I hit the wall—nowhere left to go. I had no choice but to meet those gray-green eyes. For a moment, his gaze seemed to strip me bare.