Page 72 of Baby for the Bratva King

“To tangle yourself up with a well-loved philanthropist?”

“Yeah, in a way,” I answer. “It’s about time the world pays for how it treats the innocent.”

Myself included.

I sink into the leather seats, staring through the window as the sun rises over the Manhattan skyline. Halloween is here, and the weather is looking cheery.

“Congratulations on the new launch,” says the driver, breaking the silence.

Like I have time to think about that right now.

“Thanks,” I say, keeping it brief. I have a Halloween event to attend tonight, and the media to ignore.

“You’ll attend my launch party tonight. We’ll go together.”

“Oh?” Saskia frowns, glancing at me sideways. “Are you sure you want me there?”

“Only if you’re sure.” I level her a look between the backseats. “I tend to run my events a little differently. Unlimited alcohol, lots to see. I will decide what you wear underneath the gown, but those are my only rules.”

“Underneath the gown?” says Saskia, tossing me a smirk. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I want you nude underneath your dress. Nobody will see your body.”

“And what if I want to piss off my father and wear something tight and figure hugging that will really test his patience?”

It might test mine more.

Saskia watches me, a smile rounding her cheeks. “You’re always jealous.”

“And you’re starting to get a little too big for your boots, Honeysuckle. Remember who hired you, who’s paying your studio fees and private healthcare insurance, plus dental.”

“Yeah,” Saskia says softly, turning her small body away from me. The smile leaves her face, replaced by sad expression that feels like a knife through the chest.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Attend the event with me or stay home. Whatever you want.”

I throw myself back into the seat, inwardly slapping myself across the face. Since when do I compromise and give people options?

I’m out of control.

18

SASKIA

“Happy Halloween,” chirps Fleur as soon as I step into our apartment.

I embrace her in a hug and hand over the gifts, watching her squeal with excitement over a tacky magnet.

“I can’t believe you bought me something.”

“Technically, Felix did.”

“You guys are all over the news,” she cringes, plopping down on the couch. “Is it true you’re in a relationship?”

“It’s a relationship without the label.”

“So, not in a relationship. Got it.” Fleur kicks her feet up on the couch, mulling something over. “Still, he must like you.”

“Please, don’t make this worse. I’m already a delusional mess.”