Page 40 of Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

God, how long had it been since I had grieved for him? Had I even grieved for him? Ilya coming upon me in the cemetery and me finally meeting my child had all but pushed all thoughts of my dad out of my mind.

Tears swam into my eyes, burning them.

"Oh God, honey, I’m sorry." Jac covered my hand with his, trapping it against the polished wood. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Again I shook my head, eyes wide so the tears didn’t fall down my face and spoil the little makeup I had on.

"You got it. We don’t need to talk about that! So what about this man?" His thumb brushed over the back of my hand. "Is this a current man or a past—" his chuckle was a little nervous.

"Past," I admitted.

"Ah, exes are the worst, aren’t they?"

I couldn’t help it; I threw my head back and laughed. "Yeah, he’s definitely the worst. You won’t get any arguments from me about that."

In fact, Ilya was the worst kind of man in the entire world. And I was the fool who had fallen in love with him.

"Glad to hear it because I think you are very, very beautiful."

I snatched my hand back from his. "I’m sorry, I’m not here to—"

"Neither am I," he cooed. "I just want to spend the evening talking to a pretty girl. No other motive, I promise."

Steadily, I stared at him, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. He looked like he was honest. But I wasn’t the best judge of character.

"Promise?"

He nodded, pressing his hand to his heart.

I must have looked like I wasn’t convinced because he laughed again. "Boy Scout's honor?"

"Were you even a Boy Scout?" I giggled.

"Well, no, but I’m telling you the truth. I’m not going to touch you unless you want me to. But you look like you need a drink or ten and a friendly ear."

Oh, I did need both of those things, and maybe the other thing as well. Ilya had moved on. Maybe it was time I did as well. And Jac was handsome and charming.

"Thank you," I finally said. "I’d like that."

Chapter Fifteen

Ilya

"I’m sorry."

The woman in front of me was breathtakingly beautiful as she sipped her wine on the edge of the sectional and looked at me with her thick, curling lashes. She was in exactly the same spot as Daisy had been only an hour or so ago, but as women, they couldn’t be more different. One was everything I should want in a wife.

And the other was Daisy.

Staring out into the city, I frowned. She was down there somewhere in that little black dress that hugged every single curve she had with mouth-watering effect.

I shouldn’t even be thinking about her, but she was all that was on my mind since she had slipped out of her room in that sinfully feminine little black dress and headed towards the elevator.

She wasn’t my prisoner. She was free to come and go as she pleased, but God, I wished she hadn’t gone out. Daisy was always pretty. Tonight she looked good enough to eat, and I hadno doubt that the first man who looked at her would do his damnedest to get her out of that dress.

I didn’t have any right to be jealous. She wasn’t my woman. She was my employee, but fuck if the idea of her moaning another man’s name wasn’t killing something inside of me.

No one got to hear those little whimpers but me.