Page 29 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

Like a train that derailed but kept barreling forward. Honestly, I had no idea what any of this meant.

"Relax, Briony." Winnie's arm settled around my shoulders. "That's how novels go. Beautiful encounter, impulsive night, unexpected workplace reunion. Then two people attracted to each other, falling in love..."

"You need to read fewer romance novels." I cut her off.

But some door in my heart loosened anyway.

Who would've thought? After that ridiculous one-night stand with my ex's brother, the silver fox from that bed became my boss. The doubled salary and this vaguely intimate assistant position made it hard not to let my mind wander.

But I shook off those extra thoughts and packed them away with the last item from my desk.

At two that afternoon, I walked into the top-floor office carrying my box. Varlam already sat behind that massive desk.

The entire floor felt quiet, sealed off from the chaos below. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched New York's blue skyline and bright sunlight. Inside, traces of the previous occupant's woody cologne lingered, but with Varlam sitting there, this was completely his territory now.

He'd removed his suit jacket, wearing only a black shirt. Sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing solid, powerful forearms. Relaxed and magnetic.

My heart shamefully quickened. But that wasn't why he'd moved me here to share his space. Assistants at big companies had their own offices. They only appeared when handling the CEO's work.

Now, my workstation sat not far from Varlam's. The desk held a new computer, office phone, and stack of files waiting to be processed. The two desks were inappropriately close—I'd bet he didn't even need to stand to see what I was doing.

This wasn't a normal assistant position. It was more like surveillance.

"Logistics, investment, business consulting, plus wedding planning." I set my box on the desk. "I can understand why all four companies would be worth acquiring."

Varlam didn't look up, just turned a page. That composure only frustrated me more.

"But putting me under your nose—is that part of your business plan too?"

Varlam's hand stopped mid-turn. He raised his eyes, steel-gray gaze resting on my face for several seconds.

"You think this is all about you?"

"Of course not," I answered quickly, as if being one second slower would let his next accurate denial wound me. "Whatever we had ended when I left this morning. I'm clear on that."

I also understood Varlam wouldn't lack for women. They'd be perfect, tall and slim, good at pleasing men. Definitely not my type—someone who couldn't even afford proper clothes.

"But you look like you want confirmation."

This man could see through everyone so easily.

"I just don't understand why you suddenly became my boss today and put my desk less than six feet from yours." My voice came out flat.

"You don't need to understand." He stood, circling the desk, walking toward me step by step. "You just need to understand that sneaking away only counts as running. Not ending things."

We were too close. The previously spacious office suddenly felt cramped. Even the air thinned.

"Adults spend a night together sometimes. They don't need a meeting the next day to define the relationship."

"You're right."

His agreement was too quick, making me more wary. I wanted distance, but Varlam's arm swept around my waist first. Before I could react, my body left the ground.

"Varlam—" I grabbed him instinctively.

He lifted me with one hand at my waist and set me on the desk. Like my weight had been cut in half. The position made my skirt ride up. I instinctively pressed my legs together, but Varlam had already stepped between my knees.

"But that's assuming one person didn't disappear from the other's bed without a word," he continued.