Page 27 of Baby for the Bratva King

“You worked in a restaurant," I remind her. “On the floor and in the kitchen.” I study her, my thoughts branching off. “In fact, sweetheart, you’ve worked in quite a lot of different fields. For a twenty-two-year-old woman, your experience is rather impressive.”

“Twenty-three,” corrects Saskia, standing rigidly by the nightstand. “I’m now twenty-three.”

“When was your birthday?”

She immediately tenses up, eyes flashing wide for the briefest second before she composes herself. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

I continue studying her. The lack of eye contact, along with the closed-off posture, tells me she’s feeling ashamed about something. She searches the floor, unwilling to look me in the eye.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

“On your birthday. Did you do anything to celebrate?”

A smile plays with my lips as I anticipate her reaction. As usual, she doesn’t really give me much.

“If I’d have known it was your birthday, sweetheart, I would’ve taken you to bed, not fucked you in the shower.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “So you’re only respectful on people’s birthdays?”

“Oh, I can be respectful if that’s what the person wants. But most of the time, being respectful is boring. Where’s the excitement in telling someone what they want to hear?”

“It’s better than leading them on,” says Saskia, her lower lip twitching.

I stare at her plump lips, taking in each corner of her face. She looks much better like this when she’s not wearing makeup.

Light freckles sprinkle across her nose, and the mole on her left cheek almost looks like a love heart. Her amber eyes come alive in the right lighting, like two flames. I’ve come to the conclusion she holds a lot of passion in that heart of hers, but she’s careful who she lets in, who she shares that passion with.

She’s obviously had her trust broken several times before, which might be why she’s compartmentalizing her emotions and acting distant with me.

But we’re not strangers anymore. She can’t keep acting like we are.

“Take a seat on the bed.”

“I’m good standing.”

“I didn’t ask if you were good. I’m asking you to sit.” I level her a look, reminding her who holds the authority and who obeys.

Saskia gulps, taking a seat on the edge of the bed like a good girl.

I lean against the window ledge, standing opposite her. “Tell me, sweetheart—was it your first time yesterday?”

“W-what?” she chokes.

“Your first time having sex?” I fold my arms over my chest, regarding her.

“No.”

“Saskia.” I clench my jaw. “While you work for me, you tell the truth. Lies get us in trouble, and I would hate to punish an innocent young woman such as yourself, when you’re already punishing yourself.”

Saskia scoffs, sitting back onto the bed, using her elbows to keep herself lifted. “I have no desire to punish myself. Life is far too short.”

“And yet you’re spending your best years avoiding fun.”

“We have different kinds of fun,” she quips. “I prefer the simple life. Not everyone needs to build luxury hotels for a living and preach about it everyday in order to have fun.”