Page 13 of Konstantin (Marinov Bratva #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KONSTANTIN

The boardroom is empty now.

The last investor left ten minutes ago, but I haven’t moved. I’m still seated at the head of the table, elbows resting on the glass surface, eyes locked on the screen in front of me.

On her.

She’s still sitting at my computer after I messaged her for the account number, a few minutes longer than necessary. I’m sure she decided to do a little sightseeing.

I don’t blame her. I would’ve done the same thing. Curiosity is survival.

Or sometimes death. All depends on how many buttons one pushes before they find themself blown to bits.

For her sake, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I think I’d miss her. She’s sharp. Tough. Doesn’t cower. And that makes her irresistible.

I’m not even sure if she’ll make a good assistant yet. Not like Tanya was. But I never once had the urge to press my body against Tanya’s just to hear the way her breath caught.

That was actually a good thing. Now, I can’t seem to think of doing anything else. Tessa makes me crave things I have no business craving. Makes me restless in a way I’ve never been.

That’s exactly why she’s here. I know it’s a mistake to let her get under my skin the way she’s managed to. But I’m curious now. And curiosity can get a man killed.

The smart thing would be to end this. But I don’t want to. Not even a little.

And that’s the real problem.

I push up from my seat and move down the corridor, my footsteps silent against the marble. Entering my office, I find her seated at her desk. She turns slightly at the sound of my approach, but she doesn’t rise as our eyes connect, and something in me tightens.

“I’ll be needing those spreadsheets now.” I place the manila folder down on her desk, crowding her from behind. My hand brushes her shoulder, and she flinches.

“Meeting go well?” She flips the folder open, her tone dry like she doesn’t actually care.

“Better than expected.”

As I lean over, my mouth near her ear, the scent of her shampoo invades my senses—a sweet drug I never intended to get addicted to. Reaching around her, my hand covers hers as I guide the mouse across the screen to pull up the file she’ll need. Her breath hitches, making a smile tug at my lips.

“Let me show you where the templates are.”

“Okay.” She clears her throat, every tiny hair on her arm rising the more my hand remains there.

“Once you finish…” My lips brush the shell of her ear. “…we’ll have lunch.”

Or preferably, you’ll be my lunch, dinner, and dessert .

I can’t seem to forget how good she tasted, how much I want that again.

“Lunch with the boss on my first day?” She quirks a brow from behind her shoulder. “Should I be honored or concerned?”

“Both.” I offer her a small grain of truth. “I haven’t decided yet.” Straightening, I spin her chair until she’s facing me, my fingers curling under her chin. “Depends how much more of that mouth you think I’m going to tolerate before I put it to better use.”

Her eyes glint. “I’m sure I can handle anything you give me, Mr. Marinov.”

My cock throbs. She doesn’t know who she’s playing with.

I grab a fistful of her hair and lean in, my mouth grazing hers. “Don’t do that, Tessa. You have no idea how close you are to setting me off.”

Her gaze flicks to my hard-on straining against my pants. “I have a pretty good idea.”

I nearly lose all semblance of control, ready to take her bent over this desk. My jaw tightens as I mutter a Russian curse, tearing my hand away from her like it burned me.

“Spreadsheets. I expect them in an hour.”

Then I walk out because if I don’t, I’ll remind her exactly who she’s dealing with, and I won’t be gentle.

EMILIA

The restaurant is quiet and opulent as the hostess leads us to a small table in the corner, the glow of candlelight spreading across the crisp white tablecloth. Konstantin pulls out my chair, eyes dark and unreadable, but the heat simmering beneath them coils between us, thick and electric .

He feels it too. And it’s going to ruin us.

The table is set on a terrace overlooking a lush floral garden, the scent of jasmine and roses drifting in the air.

A tiny waterfall ripples in the background as I settle into my seat, his palms stroking down my arms, and I shiver from his touch, my eyes closing for a beat as I let the warmth of his palms sink into my marrow.

“This is a nice place,” I tell him as his fingers drift away and he takes his seat across from me.

“I’m glad you approve.” His smirk could drop the panties off of any woman in the room. “I wouldn’t want you to think I was cheap. It wouldn’t bode well for my reputation.”

Right. Except I already know his true reputation: a psycho in an Armani suit.

Before I can respond, a man in a chef’s coat approaches with a bottle of wine. “Mr. Marinov. Good to see you.”

Konstantin nods, gesturing to me. “This is Tessa, my new assistant.”

His eyes line with mine, dark gaze lingering, like he meant to say something else.

But of course he didn’t. I’m only his assistant. Nothing more.

The chef offers a polite greeting, describes the seven-course meal, and pours us each a glass of wine, before slipping out of view. I’m almost tempted to have a taste, but I won’t. I’ll never go down that hill. It’s not worth it.

I lift my glass of ice water, taking a slow sip.

“Shame I don’t drink. Seems like it’s allowed on the job.” A teasing grin flashes over my lips.

His laugh is low and warm, feathering over me like a ghost. “That’s alright.” His fingers graze mine from across the table. “You’ll find there are other perks to working for me.”

“Perk. Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

His gaze pins me. “Life’s too short not to enjoy it, Ms. Monroe.” He draws his hand back, eyes distant for a beat. “We’re all a ticking time bomb, one way or another.”

The air shifts. It’s the way he says it, like he’s already seen his own death.

I shouldn’t care. But something unsettling takes root in my chest.

I start to wonder what his childhood was like. I know his mother died when he was very young and his father was a psychopath, but did his father ever love him? Did he feel an ounce of the affection I was never given as a child?

And why do I suddenly feel sad?

Fuck, Emilia. Stop it. Don’t humanize him. Focus on the important things. Like keeping your identity intact so he doesn’t chop you up into little pieces for his piggies to enjoy.

I wonder if I’ll ever meet them. I bet they’re cute.

A server approaches with the first course, interrupting my thoughts. When I pick up my fork and take a bite, Konstantin watches me intensely, like his life depends on it.

“It’s really good.”

He laughs, the sound like a mixture of whiskey and a slow-burning fire, warming me from the inside. “You sound surprised.”

I shrug. “I’m a simple girl. I’ve never done fancy.”

Because I couldn’t afford a simple meal growing up, let alone one like this.

“If you’d prefer something less ornate, I can make that happen next time.”

“Next time? You plan on taking me out for lunch on a regular basis?”

His mouth thins, but he doesn’t answer me as he starts to eat. Watching him, I wonder what he wants from me exactly.

Is this just about sex? Probably.

According to everything I’ve found on him, he’s never had a girlfriend. Not one. Which is strange, considering the women in his world wouldn’t bat an eye at what he does for a living.

As we finish our first course, the second is brought out.

I won’t lie, I could get used to this. When I pop a piece of tender steak into my mouth, I practically moan, and his features grow with satisfaction.

“I’m happy to see you enjoying yourself, Ms. Monroe.”

As I’m about to respond, a woman’s heels click against the stone terrace, blue eyes staring right at Konstantin, not trying to hide how much she likes him.

She’s tall. Elegant. Blonde. Exactly the kind of woman I’d picture him with.

You don’t stand a chance.

I don’t want a chance.

Liar.

The diamonds on her wrist sparkle when they catch the light, her attention zeroed in on him. But he doesn’t notice her. Not at first.

Not until he glances at me and catches the flicker in my gaze.

My throat tightens as his eyes remain on hers, and I start playing images of them together and I hate every damn second of it. I don’t care who he’s slept with or flirted with or whispered dirty things to in Russian.

I don’t.

But when her eyes drop to his mouth for a beat too long, it feels like a knife twisting in my stomach, and I stab my fork into the next bite like it insulted me.

“Konstantin,” she purrs, like he’s her pet. “I thought that was you.”

He sets his wineglass down with deliberate calm. “Nadia.”

His jaw tenses, while I start to wonder who she is and how many times he’s fucked her and where.

She doesn’t spare me a glance, eyes devouring him instead. “It’s been too long. We should catch up.”

“I’m in the middle of a date,” he says flatly .

That catches me off guard, my heart drumming faster.

“A…date?” She blinks, like the words don’t compute.

He gestures toward me with an outstretched palm, giving her a look that could melt steel. “Yes. Meet my girlfriend, Tessa.”

Girlfriend…

The word punches through me, and this sudden desire to be just that comes out of nowhere.

Her gaze cuts toward me, expression filled with thinly veiled disgust. “Oh.”

“Hi there.” I arch a single brow.

Nadia stiffens, her mouth snaking into what could be described as a smile…by some…before she flicks her attention to Konstantin.

“I see. Well…I won’t keep you.” She flings her hair over her shoulder.

“You already have.” His words cut, and she stiffens, tension creeping through her.

She hikes up her chin. “I’ll see you around.”

“Doubtful,” he replies without a shred of emotion. It almost feels like a threat.

She’s visibly seething as she turns her back to us and starts away.

When she’s gone, I set my fork down. “Was that your ex?”

His mouth thins. “Far from it.”

It’s none of your business.