Page 58 of Forced Bratva Hostage

He laughs with a loud, rolling, warm laughter that makes my heart somersault.

“Don’t worry. When I was young, I wanted to be a cowboy. I was determined to become a bull rider.” He shakes his head at the memory.

“I think you’d make an excellent cowboy,” I laugh, picturing him in the hat with the boots and the horse. Actually, he’d make a damn sexy cowboy.

My cheeks get warm at the thought and I bite my lip, looking at my food and trying to change the subject.

“This looks amazing,” I mutter, picking up my fork.

“Tomorrow night, I think we should get takeout. I wanted to invite you out to dinner, to my favorite restaurant, but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea after what happened at the club.” He sighs, agitated.

“Takeout sounds great,” I smile.

“I like to get a little bit of everything. So I end up ordering from four or five different places and spreading it all out over the table to enjoy the different flavors.”

“That’smuch betterthan just getting one thing,” I laugh.

I can tell that Andrei is going out of his way to try and take my mind off what happened with Van last night. He’s putting in effort, with this meal, and talking about having fun tomorrownight by ordering takeout—he’s trying to distract me to make me feel better, and I really appreciate the gesture.

“What’s your favorite restaurant to order from?” he asks.

“Oh.” I blush with embarrassment. “I’ve only ever had takeout once. Boris didn’t like to get it for me, he said it was a waste.”

“Oh,” Andrei says, his mouth pulling tight. “Well, I guess that’s even more reason to try them all.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he leans to the side to pull it out, glancing at the screen below the table. His entire face changes, his brows knitting and his jaw clenching.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried by his reaction.

“Nothing,” he says, trying to sound casual. But he stands up from the table. “Excuse me for a second. I won’t be long, you can carry on eating.”

I nod, holding my fork, watching him walk out of the dining room.

As soon as he’s out of sight, I stand up and hurry to follow him, peaking around the corner just as he goes into one of the rooms.

I tiptoe to the doorway, and my heart clenches when I hear Boris’s voice.

What is going on?

I can’t make out what he’s saying.

Andrei swears under his breath, and I turn to run back to the dining room.

That was definitely my brother speaking. It must have been a voice message. Beneath the table, my foot is tapping with anxiety while I wait for Andrei to come back.

He walks in with his face turned down. He’s upset.

“Who was it?” I ask, trying to be calm.

“It wasn’t anything important.”

“Yes, it was.” I blurt out, my face going slack with panic. “It was Boris. I heard his voice. Please don’t lie to me.”

I had every intention of playing it cool to try and get the information out of him, but clearly that idea went down the drain.

I press my lips together and wait tensely for him to shout at me for snooping.

He sits down, sighing loudly, and rubs his hands over his face.