Page 38 of Forced By an Obsessive Bratva Stalker

Something was different about him. Familiar. Yet different.

From where I stood, it seemed like he was calculating outcomes no one else could see but him. My brows drew together as I watched him closely. At first, I wasn’t sure whether to reveal myself or continue observing him in secret.

His presence here sparked my curiosity in ways that made my palms suddenly sweaty. I couldn’t understand what he was doing here and why he didn’t seem out of place at all. He stood there like he was familiar with this setting, like it wasn’t his first time at a gathering like this.

The man exuded an air of confidence and composure, the kind that comes with some insane amount of power and influence.

He wasn’t holding a drink. He wasn’t performing the small, restless choreography everyone else in the room seemed to be doing. He simply stood, and the room organized itself loosely around him without seeming to notice it was doing it.

I felt my pulse do something complicated and unhelpful.

“Import consultant, my ass,” I whispered to myself, thinking he might not be the man he said he was.

I watched him from across the room with the focused attention I usually reserved for documents that didn’t add up. Import consultants weren’t invited to Hargrove Capital’s annual summit. They didn’t reek of wealth and power either.

My voice of reason asked me to hide and not reveal myself yet. And for the first time, my voice of curiosity actually agreed. However, before I could make any moves, he looked in my direction, and we locked eyes in a split second.

Shit. My heart skipped a beat, and my breath ceased.

His face remained neutral, as though he wasn’t affected by seeing me here. Two thoughts formed in my head: Either he’d somehow expected to see me here—which was highly unlikely—or he was good at masking his surprise. Which was the luckiest guess? My money was on the latter.

There was no use trying to hide anymore; he’d spotted me already. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. At least now I could engage him in a conversation and ask him a few questions as planned. He wasn’t supposed to be my target, but now that he was in my way, I didn’t see why not.

I drew a deep breath, in through my nose and out through my mouth. After summoning the courage I needed, I walked over to him, my footsteps slow and measured.

“Anton.” I halted in front of him, my voice low and even. “What—what’re you doing here?”

His lips curled into a faint grin. “Miss Bennett. Small world.”

“Small world, indeed,” I said. “I mean, what are the odds of running into you at an event like this, right?”

A waiter paused beside us, and he helped himself to a glass from the young man’s tray.

“Forgive me, but uhh…isn’t this a fairly exclusive guest list for an import consultant?”

He raised his brows, a hint of surprise flickering in his gaze. “That’s ironic coming from a journalism student who shouldn’t have made it past security.”

Fair enough, I thought to myself.

“If you must know,” he began. “Hargrove uses my firm for compliance work on a few of their international partnerships.” The words came out smoothly, without hesitation. “I’m here in a professional capacity.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “What about you? What’re you doing here?”

“Press.” I held his gaze.

“Press?” He arched his brows in disbelief.

“Yeah,” I replied, sounding as confident as I could. “I’m covering the summit for an independent publication. Hargrove’s come up in some research I’ve been doing.”

“You don’t say.” He didn’t ask what kind of research, which, in itself, was a kind of answer.

I sipped from my glass, my eyes discreetly taking him in. His height. His build. The scent of his cologne and the coldness of his steel-gray eyes.

He’s hot.

I hated myself for entertaining the crazy thoughts forming in my head at a time like this.

“I assumed you were investigating trade compliance violations across the Midwest in general. I didn’t realize you’d narrowed it down to a specific firm.”

His voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife.