Page 11 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

When Dom first called and told me she made a quick run for it, to say I felt anger didn’t even cover it. It was more.

It was fury, disappointment, and worry, all of which made for a dangerous combination.

I ended the meeting halfway through and rushed to my car, heading towards Elena.

At that moment, I patted myself on the back for my insight.

It was smart to have put a tracking link on her phone before I returned it to her.

I had anticipated she'd try to escape, but never thought she’d manage to do it under Dom’s watchful eye.

Needless to say, I was surprised at discovering this crafty side to her.

When I saw the car heading towards a shopping street, I felt some of that anger simmer down, replaced with worry.

Until then, I’d assumed she’d run off to her brothers and wondered why she’d betray me that way since she’d been the one who had decided to remain married to me.

Now, I wondered what she was doing in this shopping street.

Didn’t she understand what danger she was putting herself in?

The GPS led me to a café, and I saw her sitting there, towards the back, sipping on a coffee.

The fact that she'd managed to slip past Dom and the security system was bad enough, but seeing her there, perfectly relaxed like she was on some casual afternoon outing, that's what really twisted the knife. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she didn’t even notice I had entered.

What if I had been someone else? Someone intending to harm her?

Without wasting a second, I strode over and dropped into the chair opposite hers. She met my gaze, and whatever little flicker of surprise flashed across her features had been schooled into a look of nonchalance.

I growled. “You little brat.”

Those hazel eyes just locked onto mine, teasing and challenging, and the corner of her mouth twisted up into an infuriating half-smile. “Good afternoon to you, too.”

I fought every urge in my body that screamed at me to grab her by the wrist and drag her out of here. But then I saw her take another sip of coffee, and she let out a little sigh and closed her eyes in the sweetest way, as though this simple moment meant everything. So, I stayed put.

When she opened her eyes, she caught I’d been staring. She motioned at the menu painted across the wall to her right. “Would you like one?”

I was utterly dumbfounded. What the hell was going on here? Why did this seem like we were any other couple, out on a little date? I shook my head and got down to the point.

“How did you get out?” I asked, leaning forward. “What was your plan here, exactly?”

She leaned forward too, studying me with those gorgeous hazel eyes.

“First of all, your security system isn't as foolproof as you think, at least it wasn’t once I found the manual to your main door’s security system.

Second, I had no grand plans. If I wanted to run, do you think I'd be sitting in a café three blocks from your apartment? I literally only wanted a coffee.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be out here alone? You're a Lebedev. Some people'd love nothing more than to get their hands on you.”

This seemed to strike a nerve, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. Don't pretend your concern is for my safety,” she scoffed. “You’re upset I could have run off, and then you wouldn’t have a chance at your little revenge.

And just so you know, my brothers made sure Beatrice and my face weren't plastered around town.

We were specifically kept out of the public eye so we wouldn't be targeted.”

She then leaned forward, lowered her voice, and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Out here, no one knows who I am. To them, I’m just an innocent woman having coffee.”

I felt my jaw tighten. She was right, of course. The Lebedevs had been careful with their sisters. Still, the thought of her wandering around unprotected made something twist uncomfortably in my gut.

Not knowing what to do with that feeling, I leaned back in my chair with a scoff of my own. “You’re many things, and being innocent isn’t one of them.”

“Am too,” she tilted her head with a little pout, and God, those lips. I didn’t think I had seen sexier lips on a woman.

I shook my head, turned away from her lips, and went back to meet her gaze. “Please. You’re a tyrant who ran away after messing up my security system. Do you have any idea how annoying it was for Dom to realize you had changed the passcode to the house?”

“Oh no,” she shrugs, her tone shifting to something more taunting, “Wish I could help.”

“I’d rather not have your help,” I dished back. “Just keeping you safe is trouble enough. If you could just stay indoors, that’s more help than I could wish for.”

“You know this isn’t about my safety. Are you really that insecure to think I’ll run away at the first taste of freedom? Is the great Gastone Ajello that doubtful of his ability to keep his wife satisfied?” she teased.

The way she said “wife” made my skin feel too tight. She was deliberately provoking me, and damn it, it was working.

“I'm not insecure,” I countered, leaning closer.

The server approached our table and then set down a quiche in front of Elena. She thanked him with a warm smile that made the young man's cheeks flush. I fought the inexplicable urge to glare at him.

“Would you like anything?” she asked me once he'd left.

I shook my head. “I want an explanation.”

Elena sighed, cutting into her quiche and taking a mouthful.

She spoke once she was done chewing at an agonizingly slow pace that constantly diverted my attention to her lips.

“Look, is it really so hard to believe that I might just want a little fresh air?

Some coffee that I didn't make myself? A change of scenery?”

She took another bite, closing her eyes briefly as she savored it.

There was truth in her words. I could see it in the genuine joy on her face as she sat in this little café.

I should have been angry, should have been furious, but by now I was convinced from her reaction and her words and the simple facts she laid out that she truly was out to just enjoy her day.

Knowing that, combined with how she teased, softened me.

The truth is, my own suspicions had been cast out of my mind when I found her here, sipping on coffee, when she could have run to half a dozen brothers for help.

“So, you weren’t running?”

A smile played on her lips.

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. “You've been a surprisingly decent host. Well, apart from the whole 'can't leave the apartment' thing.”

“High praise,” I said dryly.

“Don't get used to it.”

I watched as she licked foam from her upper lip again. Something hot and unexpected coiled in my stomach. I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Dom says you've been well-behaved,” I found myself saying. “When you're not breaking my security system, that is.”

She gave me a look of feigned shock. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Of course not.”

She finished her quiche, setting her fork down with satisfaction. “This was exactly what I needed.”

“A quiche?”

“Freedom,” she corrected. There was no accusation in her tone, just a simple statement of fact.

I felt a pang of guilt and immediately pushed it away. “Are you done?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you rushing me back to my prison?”

“I thought you said I was a decent host.”

“You have your moments.”

I chuckled. Actually chuckled, and she looked surprised. She reached for her coffee again, taking her time with it, studying me over the rim.

There was something almost sensual about the way she enjoyed her drink—the small sigh of pleasure, the way her lips pressed against the cup, the concentration in her eyes as she savored each sip. I found myself transfixed, watching her tongue catch a drop of foam from the corner of her mouth.

Christ, what was wrong with me? This was Elena Lebedev. Not some woman I'd picked up at a bar.

“What?” she asked, catching me staring.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing. Just wondering how long you plan to drag this out.”

She set her cup down. “I'm finished now. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” I deadpanned, but there was no real heat in it.

A thought struck me then. She'd been cooped up for two weeks with nothing but my penthouse walls to look at. Maybe that's why she'd broken out—not to escape me, but to escape the monotony. And if that was the case...

“Let's go,” I said, standing up.

She looked up at me warily. “Where?”

“For a walk.”

Confusion flashed across her face. “A walk?”

“That's usually what happens when people put one foot in front of the other and move forward,” I replied. “You wanted freedom? I'm giving you a taste of it.”

She stared at me like I'd grown a second head. “You're serious.”

“Don't make me change my mind.”

Elena stood quickly, gathering her purse. “This isn't a trick?”

“No tricks.” I placed a generous tip on the table. “Just a walk.”

We stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, and I watched as she tilted her face up to the sun, eyes closed, drinking it in like she'd been starved for it. Which, I supposed, she had been. Another twinge of that uncomfortable feeling worked its way through my chest.

“This way,” I said, guiding her with a light touch at the small of her back.

She fell into step beside me, close enough that her arm occasionally brushed against mine. “Where are we going?”

“You'll see.”

We walked in silence for a block, Elena's eyes darting everywhere, taking in the buildings, the people, the energy of the city. I stopped when we reached a small jewelry store tucked between two larger shops.

“Here?” she asked, confusion evident.

I nodded, opening the door for her. The shop was high-end but discreet, the kind of place that didn't need to advertise its prices because if you had to ask, you couldn't afford it.

“Mr. Ajello,” the owner greeted me warmly, coming around the counter. “A pleasure as always.”

I nodded in acknowledgment. “We're just browsing today, Antonio.”

Elena stood awkwardly at my side, looking around at the displays of diamonds and precious gems. “What are we doing here?” she whispered.

“Pick something,” I told her.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Anything you want. Consider it a gift.”

She stared at me like I'd lost my mind. The owner tactfully moved away, giving us space.

“You kidnap me, and now you want to buy me jewelry? What is this, some kind of Stockholm syndrome starter kit?”

I couldn't help the laughter that escaped me. “Come on. This is an innocent, friendly gesture. Choose something you like.”

Elena crossed her arms over her chest. “I don't want your gifts, Gastone.”

“Why not? You're my wife now, aren't you? That's what you told your brothers.”

Her eyes flashed. “That was different. That was to keep the peace.”

“So? Take advantage of the perks.”

She shook her head firmly. “No. I won't be bought.”

I stepped closer to her, lowering my voice. “It's not about buying you, Elena. It's about—” I stopped, not entirely sure myself what it was about.

“About what?” she challenged.

Making you happy? Making you hate me less? I couldn't bring myself to say either.

“Forget it,” I said finally. “Let's go.”

The relief on her face was immediate. “Thank you.”

We left the store, returning to the sidewalk. The awkwardness between us had shifted into something else, something less hostile but equally confusing.

“That was unexpected,” she said after a moment.

“What was?”

“You listening to me.” She glanced at me sideways. “Most men in your position would have been offended and taken it as a sign of rejection.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I'm not like most men.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe you're not.”

We walked back to my waiting car in comfortable silence. The drive back was similar, with Elena humming under her breath.

When we reached back home, I punched in the new code, making no effort to hide it from her. It seemed pointless now; she'd already proven she could escape if she wanted to.

Inside, Elena turned to face me. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For the coffee. And the walk.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. There was something about her genuine gratitude that left me feeling off-balance.

“I'm still angry that you broke out,” I said after a moment.

“I know.” She smiled, and this time there was no mockery in it. “But I came back, didn't I?”

She had. She could have called her brothers, could have run, but instead, she'd sat in that café, waiting. Almost as if she'd wanted me to find her.

“Next time,” I found myself saying, “just ask. If you want to go out, just... ask.”

Surprise flickered across her face. “Really?”

“Within reason,” I added quickly.

She nodded, and a smile broke out. “Deal.”

As she walked away toward her room, I found myself watching her go, unable to tear my eyes away from the sway of her hips, the confident set of her shoulders.

I felt something shift between us for the first time since bringing her here.

This afternoon, sitting across from her in that café, walking beside her on the sidewalk, had been the closest thing to a real date I'd had in years.

And the most disturbing part? I enjoyed it.

Not just because Elena was beautiful, though she undeniably was, with her curves and those expressive hazel eyes, but because of her.

Her sass, her wit, her independence, her refusal to be bought.

The way she savored that damn coffee like it was the finest thing she'd ever tasted.

Standing there in my entryway, watching her disappear down the hallway, I realized with a jolt of something like panic that I was attracted to Elena Lebedev.

And I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was going to do about that.