41. Breathtaking

Maxim Vasiliev

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My father patted her on the shoulder like he was proud of her before he left, closing the door behind him.

A blush came on her cheeks and she refused to look at me. “My father told you to seduce me?”

“Yeah.” She refused to look up at me.

“But you didn’t.”

“Should I have?”

“You could have tried.”

She shrugged, still looking down.

“I hate it when you look at the ground while I speak.” Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet mine, still rooted in place. “Are you afraid of my father?” I saw her tongue poke the inside of her cheek, giving me the answer I needed. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Why?” She was quick to ask.

Was she used to being afraid of everyone? What kind of life did she live? “Are you afraid of me?”

Brielle eyed me warily. “Sometimes.”

I chuckled, unable to help it. “If you fear my father, you should fear me even more.”

“Well, he threatened to send me back to the Italians. Those people have no qualms about being violent.”

My face softened. What did she go through whil