Page 22 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

It’s something I learned quite early in the bratva—no one can be trusted, especially not a woman who tried to make me lose everything only a year ago.

She smiles, and it’s more beautiful than the sunrise itself. “Then why did you marry me?”

“Because it’s safer.”

Safer for her, since I now have her under my protection, and only a madman would dare to hurt my woman?

Or safer for me, because not only does it pass the message that I wasn’t responsible for the raid that night, but the thought of another man having what I want would drive me straight down the path of insanity?

“Safer for me?” she scoffs and stabs a piece of carrot with her fork. “If that’s what you’re worried about, then I can assure you I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

A smile tugs on her lips. It’s far from innocent. “You underestimate me.”

“Underestimate you?” A chuckle rips from my throat. “You nearly burned down everything I’ve built. I’d be a fool to trust you. You know the saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

She tilts her head and her smile turns derisive. “So you consider me an enemy?”

“That would mean you’re a worthy opponent.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re going to regret you said that someday.”

I don’t get the chance to ask what she means before Dan returns with a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and two glasses that he sets on the table.

“Would you like me to pour it?”

Audrey nods. “Yes, please.”

Dan’s gaze moves to her thighs for a moment, and I can see the way he swallows before he begins pouring the juice.

My throat tightens, and something inside me finally snaps. It’s an unfamiliar feeling that makes me want to shoot him right where he’s standing.

“Put it down.”

He freezes.

Even Audrey finally looks up from her breakfast, her eyes bouncing between me and Dan in confusion.

I don’t take my eyes off him, and he shifts awkwardly beneath my stare as he slowly sets the juice on the table, his hand flexing against the serving tray.

His breathing grows uneven with fear.

Good. He should be afraid.

“What day of the month is this?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.

“Uh…” He pauses and draws a deep breath. “Fourth of July, sir.”

“You’re fired. Collect your paycheck before you leave.”

His face drains of color, and from the corner of my eye, I can see Audrey’s eyes widening with surprise.

“Sir?”

My nostrils flare with irritation. “You’ll lose an eye if I have to repeat myself.”

His mouth falls open. “I…I don’t understand,” he mutters. “Please, sir.”