Page 86 of Baby for the Bratva King

“About Felix capitalizing on your vulnerability? Kinda. But you’re both as bad as each other, using the other person to get ahead.”

“And what does Felix gain?”

“Good sex.”

“He can get that from other women.”

“Maybe you’re the special one who broke down his walls. Speaking of which—are you any closer to figuring out his heart?”

“His family might have been even more dysfunctional than ours,” I say. “He moved over here as a teenager with big expectations.”

“Let me guess?” says Fleur. “He was left feeling disappointed.”

“Something like that,” I mutter, playing with the napkin. “But he thinks the business keeps him afloat.”

“And is it?”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I get where he’s coming from,” says Fleur. “If you’re succeeding in one area of your life, you still feel stable, even if the world is up in flames.”

“What do you mean?”

“While you were presented as the muse, I was the second option, the one nobody wanted.”

“Hooking up with guys on the weekend will never fill the void,” I tell her.

“Yeah,” she says. “I could say the same thing about you avoiding dating.” A smile toys with the corner of her mouth. “And now you’re facing your fears, putting your heart out on the line. It’s inspiring."

“Which would explain why you look as fresh as a daisy.”

“I stayed in the whole night and watched Halloween movies. You proud?”

“Hell yeah,” I laugh, taking a sip of coffee when the server brings them to the table.

Fleur stirs her coffee, tearing a sugar packet. “I understand where Felix is coming from. He just wants to feel good about himself.” She pours the sugar in. “But it’ll never be enough. You can be everyone’s first choice and still feel empty inside.”

I curl my hands around the coffee mug, allowing the steam to heat my face on this cold day.

A group of girls pass us, all of them looking our way.

“My sister is officially a celebrity.”

“Yeah, because of a man.”

“Who cares? I told you karma was coming to bite father in the ass.”

Feeling several pairs of eyes on me, I turn around. People are either on their phones or staring at me. Fleur even gets a few scolding looks herself.

“What the hell is going on?”

I hear father’s voice ringing through the coffee shop, and immediately feel like crawling into a hole and dying.

“Ah, shit,” says Fleur, looking around at people’s phones.

“Sounds like he broke his silence.” I reach for my phone, clicking onto my social media app. Lo and behold, right at the top of my news feed—the devil in disguise.

I hold the phone out, and Fleur and I watch together.