After the meeting Kirill had with the mafia men, and someone punching you hard enough to keep you unconscious for an entire day, you wake up in Kirill's bed.
You remember the exact moment he punched the man back in the nose, right before you passed out, and wince as you feel the pain all over your face.
When you stubbornly refuse to eat, in one quick movement, he places the plate on the table and lifts you up.
In the blink of an eye, he takes your previous place on the mattress and lays you on his lap. You remain speechless for a second too long as he crushes the hard muscles of his thighs and chest. He puts his arm around your back, rests it on your hip and grabs the tray.
"I was kidding. I can eat on my own." You whine quickly, wanting to get away.
"You may have been joking, but I certainly wasn't. I have already told you that I will not ask you again." He takes a spoonful of soup and puts it on my lips. "Open."