“Everything.” He leans forward, close enough that I catch the scent of spice and smoke. “Who youare.Why you’rehere. What youwant.”
I hold his gaze. Don’t flinch. Don’t blink.
“I’m just a girl who needs a job,” I say.
“You said that before.” His smile is sharp. Dangerous. “Still don’t believe you.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
The smile widens. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.”
“Is there something you actually want? Or are you just here to accuse me of... what, exactly?”
He straightens, slides his hands into his pockets. “I want to know why you told me not to look for you. Yet take an offer to work in my shop.”
Shit.
“Because I don’t need complications in my life.”
“Too late for that, Beda.”
“I patched you up. You’re welcome. You got me a job. We’re even. End of story.”
“No.” He shakes his head slowly. “We’re not even close to even.”
The way he says it sends a chill down my spine. Like there’s a clock ticking somewhere I can’t see.
“What do you want from me?”
He pulls out his phone, sets it on the counter. “Give me your number.”
I stare at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Ayla.”His voice drops lower, and suddenly the casual mask slips. There’s something dangerous underneath—something that reminds me exactly who I’m dealing with. “Give me your number.”
My throat tightens. Every instinct screams at me to run. To get as far away from this man as possible.
But I can’t.
Because Gabriel’s watching. Because my crew’s lives depend on me playing this right.
I hesitate.
Big mistake.
Maksim reaches across the counter—smooth, fast—and dips his hand into my apron pocket. His fingers brush against my hip through the fabric, and my heart stops.
He pulls out my phone, waves it at me with that same infuriating smirk.
What if he sees Gabriel’s messages? What if—
His phone buzzes a second later.
“Now I have your number,” he says, sliding my phone back across the counter. “I’m picking you up at eight.”
“My shift doesn’t end until ten.”
“Today it ends at eight.”
