Page 27 of Sold Bratva Wife

God, the way he looked at me made me want to devour him whole.

And some reckless part of me fell right back down memory lane, and when he stood there, watching me, I found myself wanting him to stay. For a brief moment there, I had hoped he’d make a move, brush me up against the wall, and take me how he used to.

But that wasn’t why I was here.

I grabbed my clothes off the hook and yanked them on with trembling hands.

Dante showing up was a complication I hadn’t expected, but I’d managed to handle it. I hadn’t cowered, or covered up, or asked him to get out.

Instead, I’d improved, stood tall, bent my hip just right.

I needed him to get all swept up in me, in memories of us, because that was the only way I knew how to jumble his head. And my plan worked, didn’t it?

I saw that hungry look he walked away with. While I waited out a few minutes in the dressing room, I knew Dante was getting as far away from me as possible.

And thank god for that because if he knew what I was planning…

I checked the time on my watch. Shoot. I was running late. I jumped off the stool and began to dress, forcing Dante, any thoughts of Dante, and his name itself out of my mind.

I had to focus.

The sales assistant smiled when I exited the changing room. “Find anything you like, Ma’am?”

“Not today,” I sighed, sounding disappointed. “I think I need to rethink the whole look.”

Her smile dimmed slightly. “Oh, of course, I understand.”

“Will you be wanting me to order those pieces you liked that weren’t available in your size? I can have them sent to your home for trial.”

“No, thank you.” I smiled sweetly, then hesitated, feigning awkwardness. “Actually, would you mind if I used your back exit? My car’s parked in the alley, and I’m running late for another appointment.”

She nodded immediately. “Of course. Right this way.”

I followed her through a narrow hallway lined with inventory boxes, mentally mapping the route. All those shopping trips hadn’t just been about spending Dante’s money. I’d beenmemorizing the city roads, strategizing an escape, and studying my bodyguard’s habits.

I knew he wouldn’t leave his post at the front of the store. After all, Dante’s men were trained to watch the main door for trouble, not to suspect the person they were protecting.

“Here you are,” the assistant said, holding open a service door that led to a narrow alley. “Thank you for shopping with us.”

I thanked her and stepped outside. The alley was empty except for a few delivery trucks and a stray cat pawing at something near a dumpster.

I wasted no time and walked quickly toward the street.

At the end of the alley, I peeked around the corner. My bodyguard was still visible through the boutique’s front window, checking his watch and looking bored.

He had no idea I was gone.

I ducked my head and walked briskly in the opposite direction, putting as much distance between us as possible before hailing a cab.

One pulled over almost immediately, and I slid into the back seat with relief.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.

“Federal courthouse, please.”

As the cab pulled away from the curb, I allowed myself a small, victorious smile.

I’d done it.