Page 29 of Sexting the Bratva Boss (Text to Touch)

Ruslan

The morning sunlight seemed lazy, almost indulgent. Last night's passion with Eva still coursed through my veins like the most potent drug, the afterglow refusing to fade.

I turned to look at her sleeping beside me. Kiss marks dotted her collarbone like a constellation, her pale shoulders still flushed pink. The sight made me want to pull her into my arms and protect her from any harm that might come her way.

I carefully slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom, turning on the shower.

Hot water cascaded over my body as I caught sight of myself in the mirror—several red scratches decorated my back, evidence of Eva's passion from the night before.

My lips curved involuntarily as I traced those marks with my fingers, still feeling the heat of her touch.

This woman could ignite my desire so easily, yet somehow reach the softest parts of my heart without even trying.

When I emerged with a towel around my waist, Eva was already awake, sitting on the bed wearing my white shirt .

"Morning," I said, walking to the bedside.

She turned to look at me, and those emerald eyes still held traces of sadness she hadn't quite managed to hide. The expression made my chest tighten.

"What's wrong? Bad dream?" I immediately sat beside her and pulled her into my arms.

Eva nodded as if waking from a trance, burying her face against my chest.

"Tell me what you dreamed about," I said, stroking her back to comfort her.

She stayed silent for so long I thought she wouldn't answer. Just as I was about to stop pressing, she finally spoke in a trembling voice, "I dreamed you left me."

My hand stilled, then I held her tighter. "It was just a fucking dream."

"But it felt so real." Her voice was hoarse. "In the dream, you stood far away looking at me with such cold eyes, like we'd never met. I tried to run to you, but no matter how hard I ran, the distance between us never got shorter. Then you just turned and walked away without looking back."

Tears fell as she spoke.

I gently wiped them away with my thumb.

"Then I chased after you until I was exhausted. But you disappeared, like you'd never existed at all." She sobbed. "I stood on this empty street with no one around. That loneliness and despair... Ruslan, I was so scared."

My heart felt like something was squeezing it hard. I knew what this dream meant to her—it was her deepest fear, being abandoned, losing everything.

"Look at me, Eva." I cupped her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. Her tear-stained expression made my chest ache.

"It was just a dream, you hear me?" I said each word deliberately. "I'm not leaving you. Ever."

"How can you be so sure?" Her voice carried uncertainty. "People change. Someday you'll get tired of me. "

"That day will never come." I cut off her spiraling thoughts with absolute certainty.

"But—"

"No buts."

I silenced whatever she was about to say with my lips, capturing her soft lower lip and sucking gently, then using my tongue to trace her beautiful mouth.

She moaned in my arms. I kissed the wet trail of tears on her cheek, the salty taste spreading across my tongue as I followed the path from her eyes to her cheek and back to her lips.

"Stop crying."

I used my tongue to part her teeth, tangling with hers inside her mouth. She began responding. The bedroom filled with our mingled breathing and the wet sounds of our kiss. This kiss was gentle and lingering until she went soft in my arms.

"Better now?" I asked.

"I need to get ready," she said, not really answering as she quickly got up and headed to the bathroom.

I chuckled softly, assuming she was just being shy.

On the way to set, Eva turned on music—some indie band she liked filled the car.

The upbeat, rhythmic melody matched my current mood perfectly.

Eva tapped her fingers against the window in time with the beat.

"What's this song called?" I asked while driving.

"'Sunflower,'" she turned to me. "It's from The Velvet Underground's new album. I just discovered it last week and fell in love immediately."

"Good taste," I complimented.

She smiled proudly.

That's when I casually glanced in the rearview mirror.

A black Ford sedan was following at just the right distance.

It had been tailing us for three blocks.

At the first red light, I deliberately delayed starting for two seconds—it waited patiently.

At the second intersection, I suddenly changed lanes—it followed without hesitation, maintaining professional tracking distance.

My expression darkened .

"What's wrong?" Eva sensed the shift in atmosphere and asked quietly.

"Nothing," my voice stayed steady. "Traffic ahead. Hold on, I'll take a shortcut."

The moment I finished speaking, at the next intersection I yanked the wheel hard right. The Bentley whipped around at an impossible angle, shooting into a narrow alley. The centrifugal force slammed Eva against her seat as she instinctively grabbed the handle.

"Hold tight," I said tersely, hands steady on the wheel.

Using my intimate knowledge of every street in this city and driving skills burned into my muscle memory, I raced through the maze-like alleys.

Sharp turns and rapid lane changes made the tires screech against the pavement.

In the rearview mirror, I saw the black Ford try to follow but was forced to slow down, unfamiliar with the terrain.

The whole thing took maybe two minutes. When we smoothly merged back onto the main road, that black tail was long gone.

The music was still playing as if nothing had happened.

Eva was pale, gripping her seatbelt with her chest heaving, clearly shaken.

"Ruslan, what the hell was that?" Her voice trembled.

Looking at her confused eyes, I felt a surge of protective rage.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." I slowed down and took her cold hand in mine. "Thought I saw some drunk asshole racing around. Just wanted to get away from him fast."

The explanation was full of holes, but Eva didn't press. She just looked at me silently, her expression complex.

After safely delivering Eva to set and watching her disappear through the studio doors, I finally dropped my gentle facade.

I immediately called Dimitri, ordering coldly, "Check on a black Ford sedan that was tailing me on Sunset Boulevard fifteen minutes ago."

Ten minutes later, as I drove toward Yvann Group, Dimitri called back.

"Пахан, found it. The car belongs to some junkie who sold it to a middleman three days ago. Following the trail, those guys all work for Joseph."

"Got it." I hung up, my expression turning deadly.

Joseph, that stupid fuck. I wasn't sure if he'd had me followed because of the drug bust or because he'd learned about my relationship with Eva, or both. Eva still didn't know my real identity—I didn't want her frightened. I'd have to drive her everywhere now to prevent any accidents.

At Yvann Group, I spent the morning handling accumulated business.

I chaired a board meeting, shot down some flashy investment proposal, and signed dozens of documents requiring my personal review.

My brain worked like a precision computer, efficiently processing everything.

But part of it stayed occupied with Eva and that black Ford.

Around noon, I texted Eva.

Me: did u eat lunch? don't forget to eat

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with her reply.

Eva: just finished eating. 'bout to start filming again

The corners of my mouth softened involuntarily.

That evening, Dimitri came to my office with a thick, encrypted file.

"Пахан, we've got answers on the Black Sea incident."

I gestured for him to sit. "Talk."

"We investigated all five people with access to the Black Sea route encryption keys, plus their immediate families, checking all overseas account activity for the past three months." Dimitri's voice was low and powerful. "Four of them came up clean. The only anomaly points to Casimir."

The result was exactly what I'd expected.

"He was careful." Dimitri continued his report, opening a flowchart on his tablet.

"Six months ago, he used several shell companies registered in Panama to create legitimate-looking investment losses.

Actually, that money was split into dozens of transactions and funneled into an anonymous trust fund in the Cayman Islands.

It wasn't touched until this operation, when it was used to hire that well-equipped mercenary team.

If you hadn't told me to track backwards from financial flows, we never would have found this connection. "

"I also discovered," Dimitri paused, his tone growing more serious, "Casimir and Joseph have been in contact."

"Not surprising." I laughed coldly. Now all the pieces fit together—Joseph's sudden provocations weren't random.

"Casimir's never been content playing second fiddle to me.

He's wanted real control of the bratva for years, but he lacks foundation and respect.

On his own, he can't make waves." My voice was ice-cold.

"Joseph's crew may be declining, but they still have some muscle.

Partnering with Joseph is his fastest path to building power. And Joseph wants my arms connections."

That twenty-million-dollar Black Sea shipment was probably Casimir's down payment for establishing their partnership.

Dimitri's next words confirmed my suspicions.

"What I found is that Casimir provided intelligence and encryption keys, mercenaries handled the hijacking in international waters, and Joseph's people managed port logistics. But now the cargo's location is buried deep—we don't have enough solid evidence to move against Casimir directly."

Within the bratva, eliminating a direct Yvannov family member—especially my supposed brother—required ironclad proof.

"Keep digging. I want to know exactly where that cargo ended up. And put surveillance on every move Casimir and Joseph make," I ordered.

"Yes, пахан."