"When I took over the Bratva at twenty-three, I was living on takeout and vodka. Mikhail staged an intervention." He sipped his wine. "Said if I was going to lead, I needed to take care of myself. Starting with actual food. Those cooking skills my mom taught me kicked in and I’ve never turned back."
"Mikhail seems like a good friend."
"He's my brother in everything but blood." Olek cut into his chicken. "Known him since we were kids. He's the only person I trust completely."
"That must be nice," I said quietly. "Having someone like that."
"You have your sister."
"I do. But it's not the same." I pushed pasta around my plate. "I'm supposed to protect her. I can't be weak with her."
"Being vulnerable isn't a weakness."
"Says the man who probably hasn't cried since he was ten." I teased.
"Sixteen, actually. When my mother died." He refilled my wine. "And you're changing the subject."
I cringed, wishing that I could take that back. "There's no subject. We're having dinner."
"We're getting to know each other."
I set down my fork. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are we doing this? The dinner, the conversation. Why not just—" I gestured vaguely, "—stick to the contract?"
Olek was quiet for a moment, studying me over his wineglass.
"Because," he said finally, "I don't want to just fuck you, Katrina. I want to know you."
My heart stuttered. "That's not part of the deal."
"Then consider it a bonus." He stood and came around the table, leaning against it beside me. "I want to know what makes you laugh. What are you afraid of besides your ex? What you dream about when you let yourself dream?"
"Why?"
"Because you're fascinating." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Because you're the first woman in years who'smade me feel anything other than bored. Because—" He paused. "—because I think you need someone to actually see you. Not the mask you wear. The real you."
I couldn't breathe.
"Olek—"
"And knowing the real you makes things even better between us. I want inside your mind so I can own it too.” He added. “Finish your dinner," he said smugly, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me. "Then I'm going to take you to bed and make you forget every reason this is a bad idea."
He went back to his seat, but the air between us felt charged now. Electric.
Had I made a mistake by signing this agreement?
Sex could be just sex. I was capable of detaching that way. Yes, it was a bonus that he was skilled with his mouth and that he could get me off. However, I didn’t want to complicate things unnecessarily. I finished eating in silence, acutely aware of his eyes on me. Of the promise implicit in every glance.
When I was done, he stood and offered his hand.
"Ready?"
No.
Yes.
