Page 21 of The Bratva's Forced Bride

But having her so close, the thought of getting her out of that dress certainly crossed my mind.

By the time it was all over, nothing was stopping me from taking my new wife back home. We both looked like we had been through hell and back as we rode in the back of the SUV, and we didn’t say a word.

It was impossible to look at her without feeling that guilt and slight regret creeping in. I felt responsible for dragging her into my mess. For making her a part of a world she had no business being in.

I felt no better than her dad.

Chapter 8 - Grace

There was no way to describe how I felt after it was all said and done.

The ceremony, while rushed, wasn’t as bad as I expected, but it wasn’t anything like I pictured as a little girl. I was officially married and a Levov, but I didn’t feel excited. I didn’t feel swept off my feet.

I just felt numb, like I had officially signed away everything I hoped for.

Since being stuck with my dad, I always wanted to do what most average women did. I wanted to graduate from university and get a good job. To settle down and start a family in a nice neighborhood somewhere. The abysmal childhood I experienced sprouted that idea in my head, but it all felt like It was for nothing.

Towing behind Yaro as we entered the condo, I felt like a doll playing dress up.

Even if the kiss and dance were nice, I didn’t know how to feel about the rest of it.

I couldn’t help but assume Yaro felt the same way as the gloomy atmosphere followed us both inside. It was my first time entering the condo as a bride despite not feeling like one and the place not feeling like home either.

As the lights turned on, we reached the living room, and a small display on the glass coffee table caught our attention.

Silver balloons tied to a container of ice and fancy-looking champagne glinted under the light, matched with some glasses, white candles, and a handful of other nice touches.

To my surprise, a small grin claimed Yaro’s face.

He reached for the card and read it quickly. He snickered to himself. “Leave it to Isidor and Raya. It’s all about the details.”

Feeling like I was missing something, I wasn’t sure what to say.

But standing in the living room wearing one of the nicest wedding dresses I had ever seen, I felt ridiculously overdressed and uncomfortable, even if Yaro was still in his suit that flattered him more than I wanted to admit.

Letting go of a breath, I turned away from him. “I’m getting changed.”

He mumbled a response while he inspected the champagne bottle.

Taking that as my cue, I went straight for the master bedroom with a hundred thoughts moving through my head at once.

Reaching for the zipper took some effort, but once the dress hit the floor, I felt a semblance of normalcy again. I rifled through some of the clothes that had been left for me and found a two-piece pajama set with shorts and a tank top that looked comfortable enough.

Slipping them on, I let go of a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror.

I started the day as Grace Carter and ended it as Grace Levov. There was no easy way for me to digest that fact, regardless of what my dad said.

It was impossible to see it as a good thing. Sure, the money would be appealing to some, but it didn’t matter to me. I wanted a genuine connection and to know my husband before we exchanged any vows.

And yet, something about Yaro made me want to know him better. To put in the effort and find out exactly who I married.

I was torn about it all.

As far as I saw it, I had two options. I could flop onto the bed and hide there for as long as I wanted, or I could confront my new reality. While the former was tempting, my curiosity got the better of me.

With a sigh, I headed for the door and approached the living room.

Sat on the couch, Yaro had helped himself to some of the champagne as he sipped on it and scrolled through his phone. When he heard me coming, surprise ran across his features as he looked at me.

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