Page 18 of Forbidden Boss

I’m struck again by just how strong she is. She doesn’t have to be brave, but she chooses to be. She doesn’t need me, but she wants me. And I’m losing my mind trying to pretend that I don’t want her with every fiber of my being.

So, I stand up and follow her back to my room.

9

MARI

By nine a.m. Monday, I’m already on my second coffee, and my spreadsheet is still a disaster. I’m distracted. I keep seeing Lev’s hands braced on the edge of his dining table, and I keep telling myself to focus on vendor shells instead. It doesn’t help.

I spent the weekend in his bed, pushing away every thought of who he is. Now I’m back in the real world, and nothing fits cleanly. I’m falling for a Bratva boss. I almost laugh because the word feels ridiculous in such a bright office with a plant wall and catered muffins.

I’m consumed by him, and I have to be honest with myself about that. Yes, he’s dangerous, but I can’t stay away from him. This weekend proved that pretty clearly. My self-control falls right out the window in his presence. It started at that damn club, and working for him hasn’t made it any easier. If anything, it’s made my lust for him even worse.

It’s just sex, I remind myself. That’s all we have. Really good, mind-blowing, out-of-this-world sex. That isn’t a good enough reason for me to look past all his faults. Is it?

Lev doesn’t come in. His blinds stay at the exact angle he left them Friday night. He doesn’t text me or send me a calendar notice. I’m not someone who needs to know his comings and goings.

The truth of that sits wrong in my chest, so I bury myself in my work. I will not think about Lev and how he keeps my blood pressure spiking in the best way. Instead, I reconcile a batch, flag a suspicious transfer, draft a request to the bank, and pretend I’m not anxiously waiting for him to walk through the door.

But the thoughts start to nag at me. Why isn’t he here? I left his mansion early this morning. I was sure he’d be right behind me.

What if something happened to him? What if his enemies attacked him?

I don’t know how any of this works. Is he in danger every second of every day? Does he constantly have to watch his back? Am I always going to be worried that he’s dead when he’s an hour late to work?

By ten, I give up the pretense of working on this account and take a walk to the copier, just to give my brain a break from the incessant thoughts. It seems extra quiet today. I’d expect the boss being gone to make everyone chattier, but everyone seems buried in their own work. I sigh and head back to my office, wishing for a distraction.

When it does come, though, it’s far more dramatic than I expect. A man rushes into my office with the same general demeanor as the guards at Lev’s house. He sweeps the room with his eyes without looking at me, then says, “We’re leaving.”

“Excuse me?” My voice spikes. “I’m not going anywhere with you! I don’t even know who you are.”

“Yuri,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest, looking like he’s about to roll his eyes. “Let’s go, Mari.”

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, refusing to get up.

He crosses to my desk and pulls me to my feet. “Now.”

“I have a deadline,” I say, trying to pull free of his grasp.

He closes my laptop and tucks it under his free arm. “I’m sure the boss will understand, considering he told me to come get you.”

His tone makes something in my spine snap straight. His hand finds my elbow, firm but not rough. He guides me out of my office and toward the service elevator.

“Do you have your phone?” he asks.

“In my pocket.”

“Good.”

We move fast. A few of my coworkers look up, curious, then pretend not to notice me being marched out of the office by a scary-looking Russian. The elevator doors open as we reach them. He keys in a code I don’t recognize, and the car drops. My stomach lifts into my throat. He says nothing on the way down.

The doors part into the garage. A black SUV sits nose-out, with the engine running and the rear door open. Marcus Sterling is in the front passenger seat. He doesn’t turn to look back at me. The driver doesn’t look back either. I slide in because there doesn’t seem to be any other option. The door shuts, and the SUV shoots up the ramp.

I press my knees together and keep my hands still.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s happening?” I demand, but none of the men pay me any mind.

Yuri lifts his phone to his ear and talks fast. I hear “asset is secured,” but not much else. What the hell?