Wrong Call, Claimed by the Bratva Boss (Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance)

M

! Auntie E

planet I'm on. I feel a sharp line of pain on my cheek. It takes me a long moment to realize that it's becau

s 7:45. We're l

hi

my legs are completely numb from sleeping in such a weird fetal po

inated outfits in the history of shitty parenting. I hurl random food into their lunch

doesn't so much as l

m off well into first period, but she can shove her judgment up her ass. I j

I don't quite realize why until I'm in the elevator up to the thirt

and my blouse is on backwards. The fashionable one-shoulder cutout is

are more put-tog

eyebrow. It's probably halfway up his scalp by now. His voice is going to

to be fuckin

imagination. That w

the elevator doors have opened-and who should b

at cruelly sharp jaw of his clenched so tight that I

ven to say? "I'm sorry," I blurt. "I fell asleep afte

s appropriately for your job, Ms. Carson," he grow

Hold on. No, that's not

duce your way out of being-" He checks his watch. "-two and a half hours late. I'm not sure

ttention. "Seduce?"

would look like to seduce Ruslan O

and bringing that smirking sna

above my hips, while he shoves my panties t

office carpet as he

r explanations. Go do your job. Before

turn and look dumbly at him as the doors close on his face

, too, di

uckily, I have an extra cardigan at my desk, so I'm

bearable as ever. Everything from the expiration date on his coffee creamer to the status of the conference room chairs

ve the office at 5:00 P.M. sharp. I'm counting down the last ten seconds unt

ive... Four... Thr

and look down to see the dev

My off

t. I was

get up and

and the temperature is Arctic. He's a mass of shadows behind his desk, huge

points at the chair

are buzzing and frayed. I'm so, so tired. But I can't s

tard the satisfaction of

r than this company, then I will find a new assistant. I'm not a nice man, Ms. Carson. So believe me when I tell you that this is not the kind o

Dress like you intend to keep your job. No

one and poof, it's like

Am. P

m, or that three little kids are waiting on me to pick them up from after-school care. He doesn't k

m a-I mean, fuck you, I'm a person! I have a life and hobbies and people who depend on me. I'm real! So I'd apprecia

an b

in

in

mething else

y in my head. It wasn't real. All imagined. Just a pleasant little d

n my throat and stand. "No, sir,