Sexting the Boss: An Age Gap, Bratva Romance by Liz Archer

Author:Liz Archer [Archer, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

I hit send. Wait.

Nothing.

Seconds tick by.

Oleg shifts again, watching me. “You’re wasting your time, boss.”

I lift my head, giving him a cold stare. “What?”

“She blocked you.”

I narrow my eyes. “How the hell would you know?”

He jerks his chin at the phone. “Text turned green, boss. That’s iPhone code for blocked.”

I frown, glancing down. Sure enough, the bubble that should be blue is green as grass.

“How the fuck do you know that?” I mutter, more to myself.

“Because I’ve been blocked plenty,” Oleg deadpans.

I sit there, staring at the screen, the green bubble like a slap in the face.

“She blocked me,” I say under my breath, the words tasting like ash.

Oleg shrugs. “Happens.”

He watches me too closely—like he’s waiting for me to explode.

Hell, maybe I’m about to. My jaw’s clenched so hard it aches, and that fucking green text bubble is burned into my brain.

“She blocked me,” I mutter again, more to myself than anyone else.

Oleg shrugs, leaning back lazily. “Let it go, boss. She’s just a girl. You’ve got bigger shit to handle right now. Lev’s the priority.”

I shoot him a glare sharp enough to shut him up.

“She’s not just a girl,” I bite out. “And no one walks away from me like that.”

Roman exhales through his nose but says nothing. He knows better.

Oleg tries one last time. “Seriously, Damien. She blocked you. Textbook move. She’s mad. She’s not gonna⁠—”

I push back from the table hard enough that the chair scrapes the floor. “Stay here. Both of you.”

Oleg raises a brow. “Where the hell are you going?”

I don’t answer. Just grab my phone and walk out, the door slamming behind me.

I’m already dialing the elevator before anyone can stop me.

Heart pounding. Fury tightening my fists.

I hit the button for the lower floors—the employee offices. Her department.

It’s stupid. Reckless. But I don’t give a shit.

She blocks me? Fine. Let’s see how she handles this.

The elevator ride feels endless, and the second the doors open, heads turn.

No one expects to see me down here.

I walk through the rows of cubicles like a goddamn wrecking ball, ignoring the gasps and whispers. People scramble out of my way, eyes wide, pretending to look busy.

And then I see her.

Sasha.

Sitting there, pretending like she hasn’t flipped my entire fucking world upside down.

Oblivious. Her head down, typing.

I stand there for a beat too long, staring.

She feels it. Slowly looks up.

Her eyes go wide.

Good. She should be scared.

“Miss Caldwell,” I say, voice calm but laced with every bit of the rage burning inside me. “Come with me.”

She blinks, glancing around at the sea of heads peeking over cubicles like it’s feeding time at the zoo.

Sasha leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, and hisses, “What are you doing? You’re making a scene.”

“I am the scene,” I bite back, dead serious. “Now get up.”

Her jaw tightens, her face turning pink. “This is my job, Damien. You can’t just…barge in here.”

“I just did.”

Someone coughs nervously. I don’t even glance their way.

I’m locked on Sasha like a heat-seeking missile.

She glares. “You’re insane.

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