Chapter 8 #2
I can feel the undercurrent of tightly coiled power in the way he leans against the wall, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.
The camera catches every detail: the veins along his forearms, the latent power and ink that scream danger.
I once read somewhere that a woman is naturally drawn to a man with ink because she knows… he won’t pussyfoot around. He’s a man well acquainted with pain and risks, a man who is willing to take her to new heights.
I have no idea if it’s true.
I want to see his jaw again. I want to see that stubble, that smirk, but most of all… I want to see his eyes. I can tell by the way his lips are moving he’s talking.
I swallow hard, start it over, and turn the volume up on my phone.
“You want a man to protect you,” he whispers, his voice low and rough and so sexy a pulse of need throbs between my thighs.
I swallow. That subtle Russian lilt turns every word into a threat wrapped in velvet, and I could listen to him talk all day long.
I’m not the only one—comment after comment comes in, flirting with him, begging for more, offering him their first-born children and hands in marriage.
His gaze is unflinching as if he’s addressing me directly.
Maybe he is…
“You don’t want a gentleman, little queen.”
I gulp.
There’s no maybe about this. He is talking to me.
The camera pans in slightly, framing his masked face, those eyes growing so serious my breath catches.
“A gentleman does what’s right. Plays by the rules.
” He’s shaking his head, then leans in closer, the movement deliberate.
I watch the veins in his neck stand out slightly as he speaks with quiet intensity.
“I would break every rule, every law to keep you safe.” The pause that follows is intentional, almost cruel, the tension crackling through the screen as he holds his breath.
“I would stop at nothing. No one…” His voice drops to a lower register, rougher. “And I mean, no one would ever harm a hair on your head.”
He doesn’t say it, but I hear his words loud and clear…
Except me.
Still, the thought of Shawn in town and all that entails reminds me how nice it would be to have exactly this.
No.
He stalked me. I don’t know him.
I can’t trust him.
For a moment, the silence lingers, heavy and charged. The video ends abruptly, leaving behind the sound of my own shallow breathing and the thunderous pounding of my heart.
With trembling fingers, I click my message as text after text comes in. I don’t want to look at those. They’re Shawn, I know it.
Instead I pull up his.
Bratvabloodline
Morning, little queen. Did you sleep well?
I need to take back some control here, so I don’t answer and instead click the message from my friend.
Bookbabe
OMG. Ember. EMBER. This guy is so into you!
Into me or stalking me?
I can’t tell her the truth. I don’t want to. It’s… too personal, somehow.
Bookbabe
What if he’s LEGIT? What if he really is this…sexy af guy who’s super into you?
How do I break this to her?
Strange way to flirt, no?
Bookbabe
Well, not really. He knows what you’re into. You’re basically like hey, so role playing a book girl into a masked man is my thing and he’s all, lemme show you the fantasy RIGHT HERE AND I LOVE YOU
He didn’t say he loves me
Bookbabe
Pfft. Girl. He’s posting videos directed at you four times a day. Some of the thirstier girls are a little jealous that he only ever responds to YOUR comments.
I blink. Wait. What? He does?
My head pounds. I should’ve made that stupid coffee.
I swallow hard. This feels… alright, okay. So color me intrigued.
What if I could play this right?
What if… what if I could make this work for me?
What would you do if you were me?
Bookbabe
I would do exactly what you’re doing. Give him shit online. Tease him. Milk this for all it’s worth. Your notifications have shot up overnight, your followers are climbing by the second… and maybe suss him out a bit. Has he slid into your DM’s yet, or…
Um. Yeah.
Bookbabe
NO FUCKING WAY. Annnnnddddd???
He’s even flirtier in the DM’s than he is publicly.
Bookbabe
SEEEE?!??! He’s into you. Like really into you
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Bookbabe
Well has he stepped out of line?
Is stalking me, taking pictures of me, then giving me the vintage camera of my dreams with the pictures on it stepping out of line?
Is looking up my home address and…
Yes. Yes, it is.
The question is… Is it worth it?
Do I care?
I’m not sure…
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Bookbabe
Okay. So do what I said. Have some fun. Suss him out.
What if he’s really brATVA?
I know he is. He has to be.
Bookbabe
Oh c’mon, he can’t be really…
He has a Bratva tattoo and a Russian accent.
Bookbabe
You mean… they really exist? They’re real?
I laugh out loud.
Well yes, obviously.
Bookbabe
I thought they were made up for the book world!
I smile at that.
Some are, some aren’t
Bookbabe
I smirk.
Bookbabe
Okay, I gotta go to class. Ugggh, responsibility rearing its ugly head once more. Le sigh. Keep me posted!
She’s a teacher by day, one of the reasons why she smartly kept all her identifying information off her socials. Meanwhile, I might as well have hung a neon sign around my neck that says Stalk Me.
Freud would have a field day with this.
I go back to my messages.
I saw the pictures...
He responds immediately. My heart beats so fast that I’m a little dizzy.
Bratvabloodline
And my latest video, I see. I promise you, Ember. I’m not bluffing. I meant every word.
Yes
I pinch the bridge of my nose, unsure of how to respond because honestly?
A part of me… wants this. There’s a reason why I spend so much time reading the books.
There’s a reason I started this account.
And sure, while I keep telling myself that this is fantasy, that I don’t really want this, it would be a lie to say there isn’t a part of me—a small, hidden, quiet part of me I don’t share with anyone else—that fantasizes about what’s directly in front of me.
I swallow hard and don’t respond. I quickly check my texts, and my blood runs cold.
Shawn has sent me twelve messages since last night.
Shawn
Hey, sis. I really want to see you. It’s been so long, and I’m only back in town for a while. How’s breakfast?
When I didn’t respond, the messages grew increasingly urgent and pushy.
Shawn
Why are you ignoring me? I’m waiting.
Shawn
Hello? Are you up? I know where you live, Ember. If you don’t respond to me, I’m coming by in person.
I don’t know how to play this. If I tell him off, he will retaliate and make my life a living hell.
But I can’t play nice, not with this asshole who made my childhood a living nightmare.
Shawn
Please. Things are different. I’m not the same person I was. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I want to see you.
I shake my head when a brilliant idea crosses my mind.
A crazy, brilliant, terrible idea.
Fury races through my veins as I type a message to my masked stalker. My hands are shaking.
Hey. Stalker boy.
Bratvabloodline
Ouch. I’m not a boy.
I smile to myself. He didn’t deny stalker.
Bratvabloodline
What is it?
My heart thunders in my chest so hard I’m a little dizzy.
You said you’re not bluffing.
Bratvabloodline
I’m not
You also said you’re not going to hurt me.
Bratvabloodline
I would never hurt you.
Talk is cheap, but… but…
If he were going to hurt me, he… he would have already.
Right?
No, Ember, you stupid bitch—my inner voice warns me before I shut that shit down and continue my conversation.
Can we meet for coffee?
Some place public, out in the open, where he can’t do anything to me.
My pulse races as the dots on the other side of the phone appear then disappear, come back again, then disappear.
I wait and wait, but nothing.
Seriously? I mention coffee and get ghosted by my online stalker?
I can’t ask him to do this. I can’t, but—
Bratvabloodline
I thought you’d never ask. Look out your window, beautiful. Meet me on the rooftop.
Oh god.
I freeze, my pulse thundering in my ears. My hand trembles as I pull the curtain aside—and there he is, leaning casually against a lamppost, two coffees in hand… all masked up, before he turns and heads toward my building.