Page 46 of Forced to Marry the Russian Bratva

“Low-key? What does that even mean? Should I wear a disguise? Perhaps a fake mustache and glasses?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, and I swear I see his lip twitch. “Just try not to look like you walked off a runway.”

“So no tiara, got it.” I turn back to my computer with a firm, businesslike nod.

It's strange, but these arguments with Valentin have become something I almost... enjoy? He meets me word for word, thought for thought. It's exhausting, but still the goddamn highlight of my day.

***

The next morning, I'm literally shaking with nerves as we pull up to Café Umbria.

I've dressed in what I hope qualifies as “low-key”—my favorite dark jeans, a simple blouse, and minimal makeup. Professional enough for a meeting, but casual enough to blend in.

“Remember,” Valentin says as we park, “I'll be at the table by the window. If anything feels off, give me the signal.”

“The signal being what? A smoke flare? Morse code?”

“Touch your ear twice,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm.

“Very spy movie of you.”

“Gela.” He turns to face me fully, his expression serious. “Be careful.”

Something in his tone makes my stomach flutter.

“I will.”

We enter separately. I go in first and choose a table in the middle of the café, set up my laptop, and open my portfolio.

Valentin follows a few minutes later and settles at a table near the window with a newspaper, looking like every spy cliché I've ever seen.

Bang on time, a man in his mid-thirties approaches my table. “Gela Jones?”

I stand to shake his hand. “Mr. Chen? Nice to meet you.”

“Jason, please.” He smiles warmly. He's clean-cut, well-dressed, and looks like he never makes a single mistake. He’s exactly what you'd expect from a marketing director at a growing tech company.

I feel Valentin's eyes on us as Jason takes a seat.

“I have to say,” Jason begins, “when I saw your portfolio, I was impressed. But I didn't expect you to be so talented and young. It's refreshing to see someone who clearly knows what they're doing without the decades of rigid thinking that comes with experience.”

I already like this guy.

“Thank you,” I say sweetly. “I believe in staying current with trends while focusing on what actually connects with people.”

“That's exactly what we need.” He nods enthusiastically. “TriCore has been stuck in a very... corporate mindset. Weneed someone who can help us speak to our audience more authentically.”

For the next forty minutes, we dive into the specifics of their project. Jason is engaged, asking smart questions, and clearly valuing my input.

It all feels incredibly validating and reminds me of why I love my job in the first place.

“I think you're exactly what we're looking for,” he says when the meeting’s about to end and slides a contract across the table. “Our launch is in three months, and we’d need your team to start right away.”

I try not to let my excitement show too much. “I'd be delighted to work with TriCore. My team can begin immediately.”

“Excellent.” Jason beams, standing to shake my hand again. “I'll have the first payment processed by the end of the day. Welcome aboard, Gela.”

“Thank you for this opportunity,” I say, meaning every word.