Page 73 of Baby for the Bratva King

“Yeah. You definitely look it.” She squints, leaning forward. “Are you wearing concealer, or are you actually sleeping well?”

“Sleeping well, unfortunately.”

“Cheer up. At least you’re getting a full eight hours.”

“After what Felix did to me on the plane, I slept like a baby.”

Fleur arches her brow, not needing me to go into any more detail. “Mile high club, huh?”

I feel myself blushing. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Fleur makes a motion of zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me, but you’re playing a dangerous game, having sex in public. What if you were caught? Your nudes could be all over the internet.”

“They already are with that image from the club.”

She wriggles her brows. “That was one nice ass.”

“Not for our father.” I sit down beside her on the couch, shooting her a cautious glare. “Why the hell is he being so quiet? I’m concerned.”

“Because karma’s eating him up. And speaking of karma…” Fleur grabs her phone, logging into her social media account. “Look how well your new tutorial is doing. Perhaps we can finally make some money from this. Four social media managers have commented on the post, asking you to check your DMs.”

I click on my phone, opening the app without much thought. Embedded between hate comment messages are genuine accounts wanting to offer support.

Unfortunately, all I see are the messages: “Go kill yourself, slut.”

“Lots of hate mail, huh?” Fleur leans in to have a look. “These girls are jealous. Besides, bad publicity is still publicity.”

“Let’s hope our father doesn’t see it that way.”

“It’s different for philanthropists. You’re supposedly dating royalty. Of course, people are going to hate, but it brings more people to your page…”

“Increasing views…”

“Exactly,” says Fleur, consulting her own phone. “You almost have five thousand likes on your latest video.”

“The allegra?”

“Yeah.”

“People are telling me to close my legs and find a better hobby.”

“Your legs aren’t open in an allegra.”

I pick the beds of my nails, agitated. Fleur has a point—this could skyrocket my page. I could make a career from this…

But what happens to me and Felix?

In an ideal world, I make my own money and only answer to myself, but I quite enjoy the thrill of answering to Felix. He gives me what I want. He showers me in praise. He shows me who I belong to.

“You look uncertain about something,” comments Fleur.

“Is it so bad that I enjoy being his maid?”

“Kinda,” cringes Fleur. “I thought you always wanted to dance.”

“I find myself wanting to dance in a rejoiceful way, like I want to embrace the feelings, not shake them off.”

“You made that clear the other day in the studio.”