Wicked Boss (Bratva Brothers 2)

Luka glances past me at the study that Madisyn and Bay are occupying. "How about we find someplace private?" he suggests. He gently grabs my arm, and I wince.

I don't mean to, but there's probably a bruise left earlier in the evening by Mark. It didn't hurt until Luka touched it.

His brow furrows, and he opens a door, flips on the light, and gestures for me to step inside. It's an office with a deep mahogany desk in the center, black filing cabinets against the wall, and a closet door behind the desk, with a lock on the outside. There's a leather sofa against the wall.

He closes the door behind me. There are no windows, and no one can hear our conversation with the door shut.

I exhale a heavy breath. My stomach rumbles, and I can't quite calm my nerves.

"Is this about Mark?" Luka asks. His voice is kind and gentle, tender. He steps closer, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.

"It's about Bay," I say.

The corners of his lips frown. "Is she all right?" Worry laces his tone as he leans back on the edge of his desk, supporting his weight. "She seems like she was enjoying herself tonight. Is she—unwell?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Bay is healthy. "Bay is fine. She's your daughter," I blurt before I can stop myself. I imagined telling him how I had tried to reach out to him, find him, track him down, but I didn't know where he lived, worked, or even his last name.

"What?" Luka's eyes widen like he's just been slapped in the face.

"When we—that night several years earlier. She's the result," I say. It's not very eloquent, but it does the job.

"And you're just telling me now?" He backs away from the desk. The office is small, but he manages to pace the length from behind the desk, keeping adequate space from me. Luka loosens his tie first.

The small space is rather stuffy. He's not the only one feeling hot and trapped.

"I went back to the bar where we met, where I thought you might have worked. No one knew who you were. And the phone number that you left on a napkin got ruined by a glass of water." I certainly never thought that I'd need to keep his number or that we'd ever see each other again.

Luka exhales a sharp breath. His expression is grim. "Why now?"

"Why not?" I pin him with my stare. "Madisyn saw the picture on my phone. She told me she knew you, that you work for her boyfriend. I didn't expect you to be at the bar last night."

"You should have told me yesterday."

"That's not a conversation you spring on someone," I say.

Luka runs a hand through his short, jet-black hair. "I suppose there's never a good time to drop that bomb on someone."

He takes the news better than I'd expect.

He's silent, and I can see the cogs working in his head. He removes his suit coat and hangs it over the office chair. The calmness he exudes quickly evaporates. "All through dinner, you just sat there and led me to believe that she's someone else's kid." His tone rises as he speaks.

"I'm telling you now." I step backward, knocking into the door, the knob digging into my back.

"Why?" Luka's question is gruff. "Do you want money? Is that why you're coming to me?"

"Of course not!" I reach behind me for the door handle and step forward just enough to open the door and slip out. "Mark was right. This was a mistake," I mutter, but I'm not particularly quiet with my remark.

"Get back here!" Luka shouts.

I don't listen to him. It's bad enough that I have to deal with Mark's temper tantrums. I don't have to be a part of Luka's outbursts too. I hurry down the hall and slip into the study, lifting Bay off the floor.

"Put down!" Bay wiggles and kicks her legs, squirming.

"It's time to go," I say, carrying her out into the hallway.

Madisyn leaps from the sofa. "What happened?" She chases after me as I head toward the front hall to retrieve our coats.

"I need to get home before turning into a pumpkin," I say. I retrieve my keys from my pocket and click the autostart button, letting the car heat up.

Madisyn is right behind me. She grabs Bay's boots and helps her into them while I open the coat closet.

Luka is on my heel. "We need to talk," Luka says, his jaw tight. He folds his arms across his chest. His biceps strain through his crisp white shirt.

He looks good out of his suitcoat, and my mind wanders to the two of us that night, my body wrapped around his, my back against the door, the fridge, everywhere but the bed.

I shouldn't even be thinking about sex with Luka Ivanov.

I'm engaged.

"I have to get home," I say and brush past him, retrieving Bay's coat. Bending down, I help her into her jacket before grabbing mine off the hanger. I slip on my boots, pull Bay's hat over her head, and slip on her gloves.

"Thank you for inviting us over for dinner," I say, giving Madisyn a quick hug goodbye.

"Of course. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

I pick Bay up and hurry outside.

Luka is right on my heel, following me down to the car. I unlock the back door with the keyless remote, and Luka opens it while I shuffle Bay into her car seat and get her situated.

"If you don't want money, why tell me about her?"

I shut the car door and shove my hands into my pocket. The air is icy, but it's not any more biting than Luka's mood.

"I thought you'd want to know that you have a kid, maybe even be a father to her." I thought that I was doing the right thing, allowing Luka to get to know Bay and for my daughter to have the chance to know her biological father.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean back against the car door. "Listen, I don't want anything. It was a mistake coming here, telling you about Bay. Just forget about it. Okay? You can go about your life, blissfully ignorant that you fathered a child."