Page 22 of The Bratva's Forced Bride

He obviously assumed I’d hide myself away for the night, but I proved him wrong.

Wordlessly, I reached for the bottle as his eyes tracked my every move. I poured some into a spare flute, then sat across from him.

Exchanging only glances while we drank our wine, there was something tantalizing about that quiet air between us.

Like a silent challenge of who would start first.

Since we hardly knew each other, the beginning was always the hard part. I didn’t know his interests outside of work, and that left too many options in the air.

When it went on for too long, Yaro eventually sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Things have not gone how I anticipated they would either, and I get it if you hate me. I wouldn’t blame you.”

It was an interesting statement to hear from him, given that he had put us both in that position.

But I chose to ignore it, not willing to decide if I hated him just yet. It was a strong word.

After a drawn-out sip, I asked, “What was your childhood like?”

Yaro furrowed his brows in confusion. “My childhood?”

I nodded simply. “Yes, your life. What made you who you are.”

He studied me for a moment, then rubbed absently at his chin. “I was born in Russia, as my cousins were, but I remember very little. Vik was born here after we moved, and it was just the two of us with our parents until our mother died unexpectedly. After that, our father was harder on us. He couldn’t take the thought of losing his wife, but I took the brunt of it to make sure Vik would grow up to be mostly normal. We spent most of our time with our cousins since our fathers were in business together. Those moments were good. Happy. But I developed a thick skin as I got older and clashed more with our dad.

“I was aimless when I finished school after nearly failing. I didn’t see much of a point in it at first, until I figured out which subjects I actually enjoyed learning about. Vik was always better with numbers than I was. But my size and lack of direction made me perfect for our family’s empire, so I joined the ranks. I wanted Vik to choose differently than me, but he wouldn’t. He was determined to follow in my footsteps no matter how I begged him not to.”

“Would you say you’d do anything for your brother?” I asked, curious about his determination to see him live differently.

Without needing to think about it, Yaro nodded. “Anything at all. If anyone picked on him in school, I was there to make sure they never laid another finger on him. I always tried to help Vik stand up for himself, but he was always more reserved about using violence. I like to say he’s the better one of us.”

“I always wanted a sibling for that reason,” I began, contemplating my childhood. “To have someone to protect. But in hindsight, I think it was for the best.”

“You were an only child.”

“On most days, I would think it was the worst thing in the world to not have someone to share my pain with, to help make it easier for me. But now I know I would’ve felt immense guilt if I had to watch a sibling experience what I did,” I murmured, chest hurting at the idea of it.

Yaro forced out a breath. “You’re correct. Watching a younger sibling face those same experiences makes it feel like your fault. You’d burn down the world if it meant keeping your sibling safe.”

I softened at the genuine emotions that passed through his eyes. I knew he meant it completely.

Yaro took a generous gulp from his glass, then glanced at me again. “What was yours like then?”

Those old feelings rose to the surface, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “My mom walked out when I was just a toddler, so I don’t remember anything about her. I guess she got sick of his habits, and he didn’t take it well. He drank more, and I had to face everything he dished out on my own. I didn’t have anyone to shield me from it. The older I got, the more emotionally abusive he was, which made his betrayal feel even worse. Any sense of independence I made for myself; he always found a way to break it again.”

Sympathy stitched into his features as Yaro nodded with understanding. “But you managed to get away from him somehow?”

“I wanted to sooner for school once I hit eighteen, but I didn’t have enough money saved up. I spent the next few years working and saving as much as I could since my dad didn’t offer me a dime. Once I had enough, alongside some bursaries, I headed straight for New York,” I said, feeling a spark of pride for managing to get myself that far.

Vague anger veiled his eyes then. “He didn’t pay for any of it?”

When I shook my head, Yaro scoffed. “Yet with everything we paid him, he couldn’t give you that kindness?”

My chest ached at the memory. “Of course not. He had his priorities, and none of them included me.”

That frustration ebbed into what I could only assume was sadness. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I would say it built some character, but I’m not sure how much is left now.”

Yaro sighed and reached for the bottle to pour himself another glass. “No young woman in your shoes should be swept into this life. You deserve more than that.”

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