Page 97 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

For years, I'd hidden this overly voluptuous body in oversized clothes, afraid of judgment. But every piece Matvey sent wasn't meant to conceal. For me, they weren't just beautiful—they fit.

I wobbled downstairs in the heels he'd sent.

The moment I stepped outside, I froze.

Matvey leaned against his Rolls-Royce, wearing a sharply tailored dark suit, exuding an innate elegance that clashed with the rundown street.

His trunk stood wide open, packed with hyacinths. Even from a distance, their fragrance reached me.

"What are you doing here?" I was surprised.

"Taking you to work." He gestured at his car. "Can't have my Director of Design walking to the office."

But this was way too conspicuous.

I steeled myself and walked toward him.

He just leaned there watching me approach, those gray-green eyes scanning from my face down to my feet. His gaze felt warm, making my skin heat wherever it landed.

"Director Quinn." When I reached him, he leaned close to my ear, voice so low it melted into my bones. "That outfit is driving me crazy."

"All I can think about is how to peel it off you."

Those words sparked like fire down my spine.

A few months ago, I probably would have blushed crimson and scrambled away.

But now, hearing this, something hidden inside me secretly rejoiced—I made Matvey Bykov lose control.

That feeling meant more than any hollow compliment.

I lifted my eyes to meet his desire-filled gaze and slowly curved my lips.

"Peel it off?" I mimicked his tone, lowering my voice. "Mr. Bykov, you just had your stitches removed yesterday."

"The doctor said you can't overexert yourself."

His smile froze. He clearly hadn't expected me to throw that back at him.

"Is that so?" His Adam's apple bobbed as he leaned closer, our noses nearly touching. "Director Quinn, you're playing with fire."

Heat rushed to my face. But I bit my lip, refusing to back down.

I extended one finger, pressing it gently against his advancing chest, slowly tracing through his shirt the spot I knew, where his tattoo was.

"It's work hours now." I tilted my head up, meeting his suddenly darkening eyes. "The company doesn't pay people to slack off, Mr. Bykov."

Those were his own words once.

I watched the amusement in his eyes slowly burn into something else, barely containing my satisfaction.

Before he could react, I pulled open the passenger door, settled in smoothly, and shut it with a "click." Through the window, I saw him still standing there, taking a while to recover.

I leaned back, pressing my hammering heart. God. I actually... just beat him at his own game.

The door opened. Matvey slid into the driver's seat.

"When did you get so naughty?" He pinched my cheek affectionately. "Better pray I can get us to the office in one piece."