Page 43 of Forced By an Obsessive Bratva Stalker

“They usually wouldn’t have—considering the nature of your email.” I halted in front of my desk, my gaze unwavering. “You do realize that’s not how you schedule a meeting?”

She halted a few paces away, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “Like I said, I wasn’t expecting to get a response.”

“Why?” I asked, leaning against the edge of my table. “Because you thought we weren’t real? Perhaps that’s why you sent that email without a touch of…professionalism.”

She hesitated for a moment, then dropped her purse on the couch beside her. “Can you blame me?” She stepped forward, her boots scuffing against the marble floor. “You haven’t exactly been…straightforward with me.”

The way her voice dropped a little below average did something to me, making my pulse quicken. My eyes swept over her body, drinking in the sight of her in those jeans paired with a loose top.

Unlike the other night at the gala, today, her hair cascaded down her shoulders in effortless waves. She wasn’t dressed to impress or to seduce, yet even in that casual outfit, she still managed to stir something within me. Something primal and possessive.

“I have been straightforward with you,” I said, staring into those amazing blue eyes of hers. “The problem is; my responses are…”

“Usually annoyingly vague,” she cut me off, refusing to look away.

I let out a quiet scoff, fingers combing my hair backward. “You wanna know what I think?”

“Please, by all means.”

I leaned off the edge of the table and closed the distance between us in a few long strides. “I think there’s a version of this whole thing in your head that you so desperately want to be true.”

She looked up at her, and something flashed in her gaze. Something fiery. “I can’t help myself,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s my job not to leave a single stone unturned.”

I halted so close to her that I could hear the faint sound of her ragged breathing. “I respect that.” My tone was lower than hers. “But the thing about digging too deep is that…sometimes the truth is much more dangerous than it appears.” I paused slightly before whispering the last statement in her ear.

“I’m aware.”

A pause.

I pulled back enough to watch her face. “Yet you still pursue it.”

She gave a slight shrug. “Danger is part of the job description.”

The fact that she could confidently look me in the eyes and not flinch fanned the flames of whatever was burning inside me.

“Tell me, Anton,” she began, her gaze unwavering. “Is your truth dangerous?”

I hesitated, my lips curling into a small smirk. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“No, I do not.”

“Oh, but I think you do,” I insisted. “Because, Miss Bennett, if I were as dangerous as you think I am, you wouldn’t be here. Alone.”

“I never said you were dangerous, Anton,” she said. “I only asked if your truth was dangerous.”

I stepped away from her after noticing my third leg was already twitching in my pants. “Truth is subjective, Miss Bennett.” I slowly walked back toward my desk. “To some, it’s dangerous. To others, it’s nothing more than just a harmless realization.”

“Has anyone ever told you you suck at holding a conversation?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Has anyone ever told you you ask too many questions?” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t help it—it’s what I do for a living.”

“Funny, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

“That’s not—it’s not…” she stuttered, brows knitting together. “You know what? Forget it.”

I laughed lightly, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the shelf. “Apologies, Miss Bennett.” I began pouring myself a glass. “I know I can be…difficult sometimes.”