Page 14 of Sexting My Bratva Boss (Mafia Silver Foxes #1)

Audrey

I t’s the kind of fall day that has me restless. Laying on the couch in the country house, I flip over onto my side—again—and keep reading a weathered copy of Wuthering Heights. But reading about the misty, moody moors just makes me want to get out into the crisp sunlight.

With a sigh, I stand and drag myself into the kitchen, sweeping the beige linen dress around my ankles. Kashmere is in there prepping dinner. One of my favorites, unsurprisingly: lasagna. I take a deep breath, catching the comforting scent of yeast too.

“Are you making bread?”

She smiles at me over her shoulder. “Yes. Is that okay? To go with dinner?”

“That’s amazing. ” Stretching across the island, I let my tired muscles tense and then relax, making a face at the knot in my back. Just how did I get so sore? From doing literally… nothing.

Kashmere shoots me a sideways glance. “Is there something I can get you, Miss Wolfe?”

“No, I’m fine, I’m just bored. Sorry, is it uncomfortable that I’m just in here watching?”

She shakes her head and gives me another small, kind smile.

Eyes narrowed, I go back and forth in my head with a “should I/shouldn’t I” as she tumbles the dough out of the bowl and begins to knead it.

I haven’t spoken to anyone from my personal life in a week, which I feel bad about—I shouldn’t keep ignoring Chrissy’s texts or giving her short answers.

This is embarrassing , though, and definitely can’t tell the few people I’m close to just what I’ve gotten myself into.

Except… if anyone might understand, it’s Kashmere. From the dozens of questions, I pepper her with every day, I’ve found out that she’s worked for Martynov Global for fifteen years and oversees every single service crew in the Tristate area.

So how the hell did she get stuck cleaning my sheets?

“Does it bother you to be here?” I ask out of the blue. Kashmere does a good job of looking like I didn’t just give her whiplash with the awkward, intrusive question.

“Of course not, Miss Wolfe.” She shapes the dough into a loaf and carefully tucks it into a bread pan.

“That’s impressive,” I murmur. “My grandma was a great baker. I never really took to it, I guess.”

Her eyes are kind, and suddenly I feel the urge to cry, pushing it down.

“I only learned to bake because my husband loves muffins, and it was getting a little expensive.”

A comfortable silence sets in, and after a bit I try again: “Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know. Coordinating all the employees that work under you, in an office somewhere? Overseeing scheduling, payroll, all that?”

This time, she doesn’t look up. Her voice has a cool edge to it.

“I have time enough to do that, before I come here. I rely on my management team. They’re well trained.

” She looks up, and the look in her eyes makes me feel guilty for pushing her.

“I enjoy what I do, Miss Wolfe. After all, I got into the service industry to serve.”

“I’m sorry, Kashmere. I don’t mean to be snippy, I just…

” This is it; the make-or-break moment. If I tell her the truth about my situation, it could end badly—for me, for her.

The loneliness I’ve felt for the past week settles in my chest, and I bite my lip.

“I got let go from my job,” I explain. “I worked for Mr. Martynov as an accountant. He fired me and now, he expects me to just stay here I guess.”

I sit up, annoyance stoking the fire in me that hasn’t felt so active lately. “I mean, what am I supposed to do, just wait for him to show up?”

Kashmere is watching me carefully. I can’t quite tell, but have a feeling that she might know why I’m here… especially if she’s cleaning the sheets.

The sheets that Konstantin has me fisting every time he shows up, commands me to spread my legs, and pounds into me.

Ugh. I shouldn’t be turned on by the thought, especially with how frustrated I’ve been lately, but I am.

“Hmm. I understand; I’d have a hard time if I had to stop working, too.” Her head tips to the side. “Can you go out at all? It’s a beautiful day.”

“It is. ” The afternoon sun is streaming in through the windows, leaves chattering in golden and red hues outside. “I don’t know though… I got a message earlier that he’s coming here, so I need to be… available.”

A blush heats up my cheeks, and Kashmere gives me a knowing glance.

Yeah, okay. She definitely knows what happens when our boss shows up at night, after she goes home.

“It would be a shame if he were to arrive and you weren’t here.

” Her tone is neutral. I nod along, distracted by memories of fall growing up—picking apples with my grandmother.

Hot cider, hot chocolate, the brisk air.

“Well, I need to check in on one of the nearby properties. You’ll be okay alone?

” she asks, eyes twinkling. “I’ll probably just walk, and leave my car here. ”

I stare, lips parted, as she gathers her things and leaves the bread for a final rise. Kashmere meets my eyes, puts her car keys on the kitchen island, and slips out the back door.

Surely she can’t mean…

In seconds, I’m up and clutching the keys. The city isn’t a far drive, and I’d love to walk the streets. Maybe find some comfy sweaters in a thrift shop or just pop into a café for a hot chocolate and a scone.

Feeling more energetic than I have all week, I slip on my kitten heels, take one last guilty look around the empty house, and lock the door on my way out.

Chrissy meets me at Spiced, a favorite café of ours, and I finally confess at least some of what has been going on. Or at least, I put a spin on it.

“You’re dating our boss!?” she practically shouts, chai latte spilling from the to-go cup.

“Shhh!” There’s no way any of Konstantin’s associates are here of all places, in a café the size of a shoebox, but still.

“I mean, I saw the photo of you two out for dinner…”

“And what?” I ask sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “You thought it was a business dinner?”

She covers her mouth, staring into the distance. “I can’t believe this Audrey. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

I wince. “I know, I’m sorry. It just didn’t seem like a good idea while I was still there.” The words come out sour, bitter.

“Um, yeah. About that. You didn’t seem too happy about being let go, so I’m assuming that wasn’t a mutual choice?” She raises her brows.

“Yeah… not exactly. I mean, I get it.” And I kind of do, now that I’m not trapped in the house. “If people knew we were seeing one another?—”

--that he’s fucking me into a mattress every night ? —

“—it would probably be a big issue with investors, his managers, you know. Everyone who sees Konstantin as… cold, calculated.”

“A killer,” Chrissy deadpans.

“Yeah. That too.”

Leaning over the tiny table, she practically hisses, “Audrey, you’re sleeping with a murderer. ”

Not only that, I’m going to have his baby. My face heats up for the second time today at the thought of the things Konstantin does to me when we’re alone.

And how much I like it.

God, I like it.

Checking one of the two phones on the table, I take a sip of my drink to avoid responding to that. Chrissy catches the action; I’ve already explained the whole “having two phones” scenario.

“So, is he going to be mad that you’re out? If you guys had a date planned?”

Yeah, another little white lie; instead of telling her that he’s coming over to the luxurious, curated home he put me up in to debauch me and knock me up, I told Chrissy that Konstantin and I have a date.

As if he’s a totally normal guy, and not a Russian mafia leader.

“Mmm… he probably won’t be thrilled,” I admit, “but he’ll get over it.”

She shakes her head incredulously. The truth is, I know Konstantin will probably punish me for sneaking out. Am I mad about that? More annoyed than anything. Will I like it?

… yes.

Definitely.

“Come on,” I say, standing. “I want to go to The Dog Ear, I’m dying to get a new book.”

Half an hour later, Chrissy finally seems over the news.

At least, she isn’t staring at me with disbelief whenever I glance over the bookshelves.

My arms are already full of books; five to be exact, and I know I’ll have to slow down.

But I also have Kashmere’s car, parked two streets over, so I could splurge since I don’t have to carry these home…

“There you are.”

The voice is cold and familiar. A shiver goes up my spine, and I turn, pressing myself into the corner of the poetry section.

Sal is looking at me with a Cheshire cat smirk. I haven’t seen him in weeks—not since the cops were called on him—and he looks worse for wear. His hair is shaggy, he has a five-o-clock-shadow, and a wild, stressed look in his eyes.

“Sal—”

Before I can say anything else, two men linger near the end of the bookcases on either side of this section. We’re tucked far away from the register, in an area most people don’t frequent.

No one notices Sal and his men crowding me in.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?” He steps closer, his breath sour and warm on my neck. “I told you, your debt is doubled. I don’t care if you’re his.”

He moves closer, his thighs pressed against my pelvis, belt buckle digging into my stomach. “ You were mine first.”

Where the hell is Chrissy?

No—I don’t want her to see this, to say anything to Sal and get tied up in this. Where’s the manager? An employee?

Anyone?

The books thump to the ground as Sal grips my wrist tight, jerking me away from the wall.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, dragged along as he maneuvers further back in the store. His men follow, silent and as dark as shadows as they move through the shelves. In moments we’re at the back door and I stumble out into the alley.

“Sal—I didn’t come alone, I?—”