Secret Bratva Daddy

Chapter 3Sydney

3

Sydney

I stare at the suitcase of cash on Avros's desk, my mind whirling so fast that it makes me sick. The stack of bills represents more money than I've ever seen in my life. It could pay off my grad school student loans, cover rent for months, maybe even fund that art gallery I've always dreamed of opening. For a moment, I'm tempted to grab it and run, consequences be damned.

But as I open my mouth to accept, I catch a flicker of something in Avros's steel-blue eyes. Disappointment? The emotion is gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual inscrutable mask. But it's enough to give me pause.

"That's... very generous," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm not sure I can?—"

"Of course," Avros interrupts smoothly, closing the suitcase with a decisive click. "A woman of your intelligence wouldn't be swayed by mere money, would she?"

I blink, thrown off balance by the unexpected compliment. "I... what?"

Avros's lips curl into a predatory smile that sends a shiver down my spine. "I have a better proposition for you, krasotka . One that will challenge that clever mind of yours."

He moves closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. His presence is overwhelming, a mix of expensive cologne and raw masculinity that makes my head spin.

"Become my personal assistant," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I'll double whatever pittance that catering company pays you. Triple it, even."

My eyes widen at the figure he names. It's more money than I could ever hope to make waiting tables or bartending. But the rational part of my brain, the part not mesmerized by Avros's proximity, screams a warning.

"And if I refuse?" I ask, hating the tremor in my voice.

Avros's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes harden. "Let's just say it would be in your best interest to accept, Sydney. I'm not a man accustomed to hearing the word no. There’s a reason for that.”

The implied threat sends my heart racing. This isn't really a choice at all, is it? I'm trapped, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

"Why me?" I find myself asking, surprised by my own boldness. "I'm sure you could hire someone with actual experience, connections?—"

Avros's laugh cuts me off, deep and genuine. The sound catches us both off guard. "You're either very brave or very foolish to question me, catering girl. Perhaps both." He steps even closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "But I find I like that about you."

I swallow hard, torn between the urge to step back and the magnetic pull of his presence. "I don't understand," I whisper.

"You don't need to understand," Avros murmurs, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. His fingers linger on my cheek, scorching hot against my skin. "You just need to obey."

A shudder runs through me at his touch, equal parts fear and something else. Something I'm not ready to name. I weigh my options, acutely aware of Avros's gaze on me. Take the money and always look over my shoulder, wondering when the other shoe will drop? Or step into the lion's den, living under Avros's watchful eye but potentially finding a way out?

In the end, there's really only one choice. I meet his gaze steadily, squaring my shoulders. "When do I start?"

Satisfaction flashes in Avros's eyes, quickly masked. "Immediately," he says, moving back to his desk. "I'll have my lawyer draw up the necessary paperwork. In the meantime..." He trails off, his gaze raking over me in a way that makes me feel utterly exposed. "We need to do something about your attire."

I glance down at my catering uniform, suddenly self-conscious. "What's wrong with what I’m wearing?"

"If you're going to be my assistant, you need to look the part," Avros snaps. He presses a button on his desk phone. "Natasha, bring in the clothes we discussed earlier."

Before I can process what's happening, a sleek woman in a tailored suit enters, carrying a garment bag. She hangs it on a nearby hook and exits without a word, leaving me alone with Avros once more.

"Go on," he says, gesturing to the bag. "Try it on."

I hesitate, my cheeks burning. "Here? Now?"

Avros raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Unless you'd prefer to start your new job in that charming polyester blend?"

Biting back a retort, I unzip the garment bag. Inside is a stunning black cocktail dress that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe. I run my fingers over the silky fabric, marveling at its quality.

"The bathroom is through there," Avros says, indicating a door to his left. “Unless you’d prefer to change in here, which I wouldn’t mind in the least. I’ll even promise to close my eyes and try not to peek.”

He chuckles, and I shiver. “No, the bathroom is fine,” I say softly, placing my hand on my new garment.

A thin smile stretches out over his face, but his eyes remain icy cold. "Don't keep me waiting, then, krasotka ."

I hurry into the opulent bathroom, hardly able to keep my balance. Closing the door behind me shuts out some of the anxiety, but it doesn’t cure it entirely. I know that when I go back out there, I’ll have to face the devil again.

As I strip off my uniform, I catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror. Pale skin, flushed cheeks, wide eyes filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. What am I doing? How did I end up here, changing clothes in the private bathroom of one of the most dangerous men in the city?

The dress fits like a glove, clinging to curves I didn't even know I had. When I emerge from the bathroom, Avros's eyes darken with appreciation.

"Beautiful," he mutters, circling me slowly. "You clean up nicely, catering girl."

I should be offended by his patronizing tone, but instead, I feel a thrill of pleasure at his approval. What is wrong with me?

"Now then," Avros says, all business once again. "Let's discuss your duties."

As he outlines my new role, I find myself struggling to focus. The weight of what I've agreed to is starting to sink in. I've essentially sold myself to a man I barely know, a man with obvious criminal connections. And yet... part of me is exhilarated by the danger, the unknown.

"You'll be handling my schedule, screening my calls, and assisting with various sensitive matters," Avros explains, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

I can't help but wonder what those "sensitive matters" might entail. The sound of him threatening the judge earlier flashes through my mind. What exactly am I getting myself into?

"Do you have any questions?" Avros asks, his steel-blue eyes boring into mine.

A thousand questions dance on the tip of my tongue. What was he doing with that judge? Why does he need me, specifically? What happens if I mess up? But fear keeps me silent. Instead, I shake my head mutely.

Avros's lips curl into a knowing smirk. "You're curious, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes." He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "But you're afraid to ask. Smart girl."

My breath catches as he reaches out, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. His touch lingers, scorching hot against my skin. For a moment, I'm caught in his gaze, drowning in those icy depths. There's danger there, yes, but also something magnetic, irresistible.

"Sydney?" Avros's voice cuts through the haze of my thoughts. "Are you listening?"

I snap back to attention, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. "Yes, sir. Sorry, it's just... a lot to take in."

His expression softens slightly, surprising me. "I know. But you'll adapt quickly, I'm sure." He tilts my chin up with one finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, krasotka ."

The unexpected gentleness in his touch sends a shiver through me. For a moment, I see a glimpse of the man behind the ruthless facade—someone capable of kindness, of genuine emotion.

But then it's gone, replaced by his usual mask of cool authority. "That's enough for tonight," he says, stepping back. "We'll continue this discussion tomorrow. For now, let me show you to your new room."

I blink, confusion clouding my thoughts. "My... room?"

Avros's smile is wicked, laced with hidden meaning. "Did you think I'd let my new assistant out of my sight, Sydney? You'll be staying here from now on. It's safer that way, for both of us."

The implications of his words hit me like a tidal wave. This isn't just a job. It's a complete upheaval of my life. I open my mouth to protest, but the steely glint in Avros's eye silences me.

I nod, suddenly exhausted.

"Oh, and Sydney?" There’s a predatory smile curving his lips. "Don't think about running. You're mine now, krasotka . Best get used to it."

His words send a shiver down my spine, equal parts fear and something else. Something I'm not ready to name.

"I understand," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

Avros's eyes darken as he closes the distance between us once more. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Do you?" he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I don't think you do. Not yet. But you will."

For a moment, I think he might kiss me. Part of me, a traitorous, reckless part, wants him to. But he steps back, leaving me breathless and confused.

“I’ll show you to your room now, Sydney," he says, putting distance between us like it’s nothing, even though for some reason the sudden lack of his touch leaves me aching. “Follow me.”