Page 31 of Forced Bratva Hostage
Although the person she’s messing with the most is me.
I’m the one who has to eat the food that gets made. It’s my clothes that get washed by the staff—she’s messing with me, not them.
Amusement creeps in and I start chuckling.
She’s really playing with fire, but by the look on her face, that wide, mischievous grin, she knows it.
My laptop clicks closed, and I push away from the desk, determined to catch her in the act.
She’s going to be shocked when I walk in on her and she can’t deny any of it.
I hurry to the kitchen, set on reprimanding her, but when I get there, she’s gone.
How did she leave so fast?
I walk over to the sugar and touch my finger against it, then again my tongue. Salt.
Shaking my head, I call the housekeeper and tell her to check the salt, sugar and laundry powder and to throw away the fabric softener.
She’s confused, but when I explain what’s happened, she struggles to hide her grin.
“It’s not funny.” I narrow my eyes at her.
“No, sir. It’s not funny at all.” She shakes her head vigorously.
After dealing with the pranks I caught her pulling, I walk through the house looking for her. In the library, she’s snuggled up on the sofa by the window, right in the warm rays of the sun, reading a book. She’s lying on her back with her legs draped over the back of the sofa, looking very comfortable indeed.
“Have you been enjoying that book?” I ask, walking towards her, my eyes focused and stern.
“Oh, it’s lovely. I’ve been caught up in itallafternoon.” She smiles sweetly, as innocent as ever.
“All afternoon?” I tilt my head to the side.
“Yep.” She raises her brows and closes the book, stretching her legs out as though she’s cramped up from all the reading. “I guess I should walk around a bit. I can’t sit here all day, that would be as bad as being locked up in a room.” She throws me a challenging stare, her eyes glittering. I watch her lips curling up into a wider grin. They look beautiful and soft.
Tatiana pushes past me, and my eyes follow her movements. The sway of her hips and how her hair bounces as she walks. By the time she’s left the library, I realize I didn’t even chew her out about escaping her room again.
***
Over the next few days, the pranks escalate. They are all pretty innocent, silly and mostly harmless, but for some reason, it’s driving me crazy.
I don’t know if it’s because she flat-out denies them and I can’t catch her in the act, or if it’s because I find them amusing and I’m starting to enjoy this stupid game she’s playing.
I enjoy the fact that she’s determined not to let her situation bring her down. She could be sulking in a corner, begging for freedom that I can’t grant her, but instead, she’s having a little fun.
I’m on the balcony outside my bedroom late at night. The sun went down a few hours ago, and I’m enjoying the cool night air.
The sky is dark blue, not a cloud in sight, but I can see thousands of stars. It’s absolutely beautiful.
Below, from somewhere in the garden, I hear a giggle.
The pool light is on, and it’s right below my balcony. The blue glow looks inviting, but I think it’s still a bit too cold to be swimming now.
I hear the giggle again, and my eyes dart towards the sound.
Tatiana steps up to the edge of the pool, slowly undressing.
She pulls her T-shirt over her head and throws it onto the floor behind her.
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