Page 33 of Baby for the Bratva King

Why is nothing happening?

“You need to use more force,” says Felix, intervening. “Here, allow me.”

“I have it.”

Felix takes over anyway. It’s his world after all, and we’re all living in it.

I huff, swiping hair away from my face. This is pathetic. The second he steps into the room, I become hopeless, all my self-development flying out the window.

Fuck, get me to the studio. I need to dance the stress away.

“You’re agitated about something,” observes Felix, watching me closely.

“I’m fine.”

“Lying is a waste of time with me, sweetheart, as I keep reminding you.” He works his jaw. “You’re here three hours early.”

“And you’re awake before sunrise.”

“I had some trouble sleeping.” He meets my eyes. “What about you?”

“I slept fine.” Technically, I’m not lying. I sleep through the full night, but I would kill for a dreamless sleep.

Felix narrows his eyes down on me.

“The coffee.” I tap the cup as I take a sip. “I like the beans. I’m very particular, like you with your sugar-free green juice. Speaking of,” I say between sips, “you can make that yourself this morning, since you’re awake nice and early.”

I take a big gulp of coffee before I comment on other things, like his appearance. He looks more human this morning. Normally, I’m finding him in a black and white suit, but he’s wearing a loose cotton shirt this morning. It hangs from his shoulders, exposing some of his chest. I follow the shirt down, my eyes hovering over the hem, which sits just below his hips. A black pair of boxer shorts follow.

I clear my throat, looking away before I choke on my coffee. He looks way too handsome, like a human being for once. His hair is perfectly imperfect, and the slight bags under his eyes tells me he really did struggle to sleep last night. Perhaps he’s under a lot of stress at the moment.

“Come and take a seat with me in the living area. Bring your coffee.”

I glance over the rim of the cup. “What?”

“Coffee tastes better when you sit down and take your time with it.”

In his world, perhaps.

Me on the other hand? I’m racing from A to B, shotting coffee whenever I get the chance, glancing at the time on my watch and panicking. Mornings are busy. There’s no rest for the wicked.

Felix pours himself a cup of coffee, guiding me into the living area.

I take a seat on the couch furthest away from him, holding my coffee in my hands, minding my own as he turns on the TV.

“Oh, you don’t need to switch that on.”

“Relax, they don’t show celebrity gossip on this channel.”

Perhaps not, but they do tend to show my father.

I drink my coffee, my chest tensing as I think about the recurring nightmare I keep having. Interestingly, the nightmares started when I first met Felix, and as my desires grow stronger, the black hole I see in my dreams becomes harder to run away from. I was almost sucked into it completely last night, but I woke myself up just in time.

“Some things are worth ruining yourself for.”

“Chasing the receding tide will never make you happy.”

Felix shuffles closer on the couch, watching me instead of the TV. “I’m sorry about the blindfold.”