Page 53 of Bratva Prisoner

“I won’t regret it.”

“You said the same thing last night, and this morning you called it a mistake.”

The reminder brings her back to reality with almost visible force. Her hands drop from my hair, and she suddenly seems to realize where we are and what we were about to do.

“You’re right,” she admits. “I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

“Don’t apologize for wanting me. Just… be sure it’s really me you want, not just the excitement of the moment.”

She lets out a long, shaky breath. “You’re right. I need to figure out what I actually want instead of just reacting to whatever crisis we’re in the middle of.”

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

We walk back to the main warehouse in companionable silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The crisis with the container has been resolved, and normal operations have resumed. Several of my employees nod respectfully to Alyssa as we pass, clearly impressed by her earlier display of competence.

“They like you,” I observe.

“They respect that I was willing to get my hands dirty. Most people in expensive clothes wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Where did you learn to climb like that?”

“College rock climbing club. We used to spend weekends scaling cliff faces and abandoned buildings. Drove my parents crazy when they found out.”

“I’m sure they were worried sick.”

She sputters her lips and replies, “They cared about liability and insurance claims. Everything else was pretty much left up to me to figure out.”

“That must have been lonely.”

“Sometimes. But it also made me self-reliant, which has served me well.”

We reach my car, but neither of us moves to get in. The morning has been revelatory in ways I never expected, and I’m reluctant to end it.

“What did you think?” I ask. “Of all this, I mean. The operation, the people, the way things work.”

“It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Something more sinister, I guess. More obviously criminal. This just looks like… business.”

“Most of it is just business. The illegal parts are wrapped up in legitimate operations so seamlessly that even the people doing the work don’t always know which is which.”

“Plausible deniability.”

“Exactly. Everyone can truthfully say they were just doing their job.”

She leans against the car. “It’s actually quite clever. And surprisingly… normal.”

“Disappointed?”

“Relieved, maybe. It’s harder to demonize something when you can see how it actually functions.”

“That was the point.”

“I know. And thank you for showing me. For trusting me with this.”

“Thank you for climbing that container and saving my crew hours of bureaucratic safety nonsense.”