Page 63 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

Her words cut through me like a knife, each one a painful revelation of my own misguided actions. She isn’t just Gerald’s daughter or my wife; she is her own person with loyalties and feelings that I had disregarded in my selfish pursuit to protect her. How blind I had been to think that withholding the truth was a means of safeguarding her innocence.

Genevieve’s voice softens, turning almost pleading. “Damien, I need space to process everything. I can’t do that if you’re constantly trying to control the situation.”

I close my eyes for a moment, absorbing her words and feeling the weight of my mistakes press down on me. “I understand,” I finally reply, my tone laden with regret. “Take all the time you need, Genevieve. I won’t interfere.”

There is a brief pause, and then she says goodbye, ending the call abruptly. Regret twists deep in my heart as I realize why the call felt so unfinished. It’s not because she didn’t forgive me, and it’s not because I don’t know where she is.

It’s because I didn’t get the chance to tell her I love her.

I pace the length of my office, hands clenched at my sides. How did I let things spiral so far out of control? Genevieve is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I’ve pushed her away with my arrogance and secrecy.

I try to call her again, to tell her I love her. No response. If she would just pick up, I could tell her that she can have all the space she needs, but I just need to say those three little words…

A cold knot of fear forms in my stomach when she doesn’t respond. I try again, and this time, the phone doesn’t connect. Maybe it’s a signal issue. I call again. No connection.

I use my landline. The phone beeps and disconnects.

Panic overtakes me as I realize she’s untraceable. Wherever could she be?

Chapter 24 - Genevieve

I sink into the decrepit couch, my heart aching with a fresh sense of betrayal. Damien’s lack of trust and refusal to confide in me sting like a thousand needles piercing my skin. I had started to believe our relationship meant something, but now I realize that at the end of the day, he would always see me as Gerald Russo’s daughter before seeing me as his wife.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath as I wipe away the tears that spill down my cheeks.

As I sit there, my thoughts race, trying to make sense of everything that has transpired. I know I need to confront my father about his role in all of this chaos—I need to know if he’s being set up. My father has many flaws, but until now, he’s never embezzled funds. To him, his business is sacred… right?

I no longer know what is true or false. The thought of facing my father terrifies me, but I need to find out the truth for myself because I’m done with the lies that the men around me keep trying to play off as the truth.

“Enough is enough,” I whisper to myself. My fingers tremble as I reach for my phone. I stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, contemplating my next move. I need answers, and there’s only one person who can provide them. Taking a deep breath, I finally muster the courage to dial my father’s number.

“Genevieve.” His voice sounds cold and detached on the other end of the line, sending a shiver down my spine. “To what do I owe this unexpected call? Are you calling to gloat?”

“Father, we need to talk,” I say, trying to keep this situation from escalating. “About everything that’s been happening.”

“Is this really the time?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m quite busy, you know. Having been fired and all that…”

“Make time,” I demand, surprising even myself with my newfound assertiveness. “This can’t wait any longer.”

“Very well,” he sighs, clearly irritated. “What is it that you want to discuss?”

“Tell me about the embezzlement, Father,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest as I confront him head-on. “Have you been stealing from the Zolotovs?”

“Ridiculous!” he scoffs, and I can almost see the dismissive wave of his hand through the phone. “Why would I do such a thing? I have no reason to steal from them.”

“Because Damien made you look like a fool in front of all those people in the office,” I reply, my voice growing stronger with each word. “Because they’ve taken your daughter from you. Because you were forced by them to give my hand in marriage to them. Please, Father. Just tell me the truth.”

“Genevieve, you’re delusional if you believe that,” Father says, but I can hear a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. “I’ve done nothing but protect this family.”

“Protect us by throwing me in as part of a deal?” I retort, feeling triggered. “By forcing me into a marriage I never wanted? That’s not protection, Father. That’s manipulation.”

“Watch your tongue, young lady,” he warns, his voice dark and menacing. “I will not tolerate such disrespect.”

“Then stop lying to me!” I shout, unable to control the emotions that bubble to the surface. “I deserve the truth, Father. Tell me why you did it.”

Maybe it’s the tone I use or the way I demand the answer instead of asking, but the next thing I know, I hear him scream through the phone, anger whipping every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Fine. You want the truth? Yes, I embezzled money from the Zolotovs. After everything I’ve done for them, after the sacrifices I’ve made, I deserve a piece of their fortune. What they’ve made is because of my money. They owe me more than they can even fathom. Without my money, without my backing, they’re NOTHING.”

---