Gavril (Bratva/Mafia Crime Romance Novel)

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Bernadette tottered down the stairs on her large heels and into the dining room. She was late for breakfast, after having to practically pull herself from the bed – she couldn't remember ever sleeping that soundly before. But, she knew that breakfast was served at nine and she had a busy day.

The other women glanced over at her as she stumbled into the dining room, the breakfast already served. She blushed as the other women looked her up and down. She shuffled over to the spare seat and sat down.

"Oh my god, you're so skinny" Coco exclaimed, looking Bernie's body over in jealously. The dress was tight enough to show her protruding hip bones. "How did you get like that? I'm trying to lose four pounds. How do you stay so tiny?"

"By starving" Bernie deadpanned, snapping at the woman. The other women exchanged looks, but Coco kept steaming ahead.

"Like fasting? Because my friend, Denise, did this diet where she'd fast for three days and then eat like a pig on the other four and she swore up and down that it worked. How many days did you go for it? Because I..."

Bernadette looked at the women, trying to work out if she was being serious, before turning to the food and ignoring her. She decided it was best to be considered rude rather than crazy, because she could envision herself getting very angry if the conversation continued.

Looking at all the food in front of her, pacified Bernie enough that she was able to ignore the conversation and think about food. She glanced at the other women's plates – all piled high with fruits, porridge and other healthy options – as she considered what she wanted. Finally, she went for a few slices of toast with peanut butter – a personal favourite of hers – and a bowl of vibrant fruits.

Soft conversation flittered between the women, but nothing in depth and nothing personal. Bernie listened in, absorbing as much as she could as she still tried to wrap her head around the situation of the harem.

After she finished eating, Charlene instructed her that her chauffeur was waiting for her. Bernadette nodded at her, not sure what to say before escaping out the room and to the front of the house. She stood on the grand porch nervously, glancing around, before a throat cleared to her left. She jumped like a skittish mouse; not even sure what she was nervous about to begin with.

Bernie spun to see a man – who didn't look much like a chauffeur – leaning against the side of the house. He was large, and muscled, with tattoos decorating his arms and neck. He wore dark clothing and a smoking cigarette hanging from his fingers.

The man looked Bernadette up and down openly, before speaking. "You Mr Petrov's new play thing?" he asked her.

Bernie blushed, "are you the driver?"

"Usually no, but I've got heat on me, so I have to play the part until it cools down. I'm Danila" he replied. He spoke with an American accent, but the more he spoke the more obvious a slight Russian accent became. A second generation immigrant.

"Heat?"

"From the cops" he explained, giving her a 'are you stupid' look.

"Oh, right, I see". She shuffled awkwardly on her heels as he looked her over once more, took a final drag of the cigarette before flicking it away.

"Let's go, red" he commented, heading down the porch steps and to the black town car waiting. Bernie instantly followed Danila to the car, as he held the door for her to get in. He looked her over again as she climbed into the car. He shook his head as he shut the door to her, "I don't get it" he muttered to himself.