A large tray of food sat on the extravagant coffee table in front of him. He waved two fingers in the air, summoning me over to him. “You are hungry, little one.” It was more a statement than a question. “Great, a romantic dinner,” I mumbled. My stomach rumbled, my body betraying me once again to this man who seemed to gain more control over me with each passing day. I eyed the man seated next to me. Today, he donned a burgundy suit with a black and white striped button-up shirt. His cuffs were solid white, and he wore gold cufflinks. He had removed his jacket at some point, making his holstered gun visible; he always had a gun on him. I found myself sneaking peeks at him, but I looked down each time he caught me. He set his fork down and made that clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth he always made when he gave me his full attention.
What do You think about Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1)?
