Page 24 of Obsession of the Bratva

“Do you enjoy this?”

“Immensely.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

I stood up, walking away from my desk. That got her attention immediately. The office suddenly felt smaller and warmer. Vera’s eyes followed the movement automatically, and I hated that I noticed it. I hated even more that she noticed me noticing. The chemistry between us remained even months later. After betrayal and heartbreak and a kidnapping.

Still there. Still alive. Still ruining everything.

“I’m not acting like a child. I am simply existing, and you seem to have an issue with everything.”

“You absolutely are.”

I rounded the desk. “You have no idea what childish behavior looks like.”

Her chin lifted. “I think I am getting a pretty good demonstration.”

I laughed, and the sound surprised both of us because it wasn’t bitter. It wasn’t cruel. It sounded almost normal. For one brief moment, we both seemed to remember another version of ourselves. A version that no longer existed. The realization landed heavily, but I brushed past her, refusing to think about the past.

“Move.”

“No.”

My eyebrows rose.

“No?”

“No.”

I stared, and she stared back, the stubborn expression returning. The one that had always driven me insane. The one that had once made me want to kiss her until she forgot what she had been arguing about. Now it just made everything worse because despite everything she had done, I still wanted to kiss her senseless.

“You’re blocking the doorway.”

“Good. Maybe you will stay here until I can make you see reason.

“Vera.”

“No.”

I stepped closer, but she didn’t move. Neither did I. The distance between us vanished. We were not touching but were still close enough. The air changed immediately, and her breathing slowed. Mine did too. Every instinct in my body became hyperaware. I could smell her shampoo and see the faint freckles across her nose. I noticed the pulse fluttering in her throat.

One step.

That was all it would take.

One step.

The thought was dangerous enough to make me angry.

“Move.”

“Make me.”

The words escaped before she could stop them. Silence followed, heavy and electric. I watched realization spread across her face. She had not meant to say that. I could tell. But unfortunately, I had heard it. Every single syllable. My gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, which was a mistake. A catastrophic mistake because she noticed. And suddenly neither of us remembered what we had been arguing about.

The moment stretched.

Too long.