Page 42 of The Bratva Betrayal

And partly because I like watching her walk away from me.

The penthouse is quiet in the early morning light, all clean marble and oversized windows overlooking the city below. It still feels too staged to be personal, but there are pieces of her tucked into it.

Fresh flowers on the counter.

A stack of hardcover books near the sofa.

Pressed flowers drying beneath heavy glass frames near the dining room wall.

Controlled little glimpses of personality hidden beneath all the polish.

Cady moves through the kitchen, pulling fruit from the refrigerator while I lean against the island and watch her ignore me.

“You always stare at women this aggressively?” she asks without looking up.

“Only the suspicious ones.”

“That’s flattering.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

She slices strawberries with more force than necessary. “You know, for someone who keeps threatening me, you spend an awful lot of time in my apartment.”

“You keep giving me reasons to.”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

I bark out a quiet laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No.” She glances at me. “I’d like you gone.”

I reach over and steal a strawberry from the cutting board.

She slaps my hand. “Don’t touch my food.”

I eat it anyway.

“Hostile this morning, Lisichka.”

“Because you’re still here.”

I take another piece, slower this time, eyes locked on hers while I do it.

The slap comes quicker, but before she can pull away, I catch her wrist.

Everything stills.

Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers.

Mine answers.

Her eyes lift slowly to mine, and there’s something different there now.

Awareness.

“You have enough yet?” I ask quietly.

Her brows pull together. “Enough of what?”