Page 10 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

“Probably takes after her mother,” Damien agrees.

“Just make sure you don’t get swept away by her looks, Brother,” Lev says.

“Oh, come on,” Damien notes. “Business always comes first. Her father wasn’t open to an investment deal until a wedding took place, and that’s all he’ll get out of it. It’s just a transaction. Why should I take this marriage to be anything more?”

My anger rises as I hear their disrespectful words about my father—the man who has done everything for our family. My chest tightens, and I clench my fists at my sides. How dare they dismiss our marriage as just some business arrangement, as if my thoughts, feelings, and existence don’t matter at all? How dare they say I’m just a pawn without any thought for my well-being? I grit my teeth, feeling the sting of betrayal deep within me.

I can’t take it anymore. I turn to leave and in my frustration, I accidentally kick a decorative vase, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud shatter. My heart races as I realize what I’ve just done—given away my position.

“Who’s there?” Damien demands, his voice cold and dangerous as it cuts through the air. I hold my breath, praying that maybe, just maybe, they won’t find me.

“Show yourself!” Lev adds, his tone lighter.

With no other choice, I step out from behind the wall, my face flushed with embarrassment and anger as I glare at them both. “It’s me,” I snap, refusing to back down despite the fear coursing through my veins.

“Genevieve,” Damien says, his expression unreadable as he studies me carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“None of your business,” I retort, my hands trembling as I fold my arms across my chest in defiance. “But since you’re both so keen on discussing our marriage, maybe you’d like to know that I heard everything.”

“Everything?” Lev repeats, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Well, this just got interesting.”

“Stay out of it, Lev,” Damien warns him, his gaze never leaving mine.

“In that case, I’ll take that as my cue,” Lev says, picking up the champagne to walk past us. As he crosses me, he gives me a wry smile. “Champagne, Sis?” he lifts the bottle and his shoulders apologetically.

I shake my head, not giving him a smile back, and he nods before sauntering away.

Damien and I stand there in silence, glaring at each other.

“Maybe I should just tell my father about your true opinion of him,” I spit, my voice shaking with fury as I face Damien. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know what his new son-in-law thinks of him behind his back.”

“Genevieve, don’t.” Damien’s eyes darken, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something akin to a warning in them.

“I will if you don’t start taking this marriage seriously,” I threaten, my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t believe I’m standing up to the notorious Damien Zolotov, but I have to protect my father’s reputation and what little chance I might have to grasp for joy.

“Fine,” Damien growls, grabbing my arm with a tight grip that leaves me no room for escape. “But not here. We’ll discuss this elsewhere.”

“Let go of me,” I snap, trying to pull away from him, but his grip only tightens.

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses, guiding me through the mansion’s corridors. Our footsteps echo in the empty spaces. My heart races as I struggle to keep pace with him, the urgency and intensity of the situation making me forget about everything else.

Finally, we reach a wooden screen at the end of a long hallway, hidden away from prying eyes. Damien pushes it aside to reveal a dimly lit study, its walls lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the center of the room. He yanks me inside, placing the screen over the opening to the room.

“Talk,” he orders, releasing my arm and crossing his own over his chest as he leans against the door. The coldness in his eyes sends shivers down my spine, but I refuse to let him intimidate me.

“Start treating our marriage like it matters, or I’ll tell my father everything,” I say, mustering all the courage I can. “You owe him that much.”

“I owed him my hand to you, and I met that end of the bargain,” he hisses at me, his jaw clenched as he studies me with a calculating gaze.

“Sure,” I seethe. “But what about me? This is it, then? My whole life is going to be just a farce with no chance at anything real?” My voice gets stuck in my throat as unexpected tears spring to my eyes.

“It’s just that… I never thought we’d find love. I’m no fool. I get what an arranged marriage is, yet I still hoped, like the foolish girl I am, that perhaps someday, we could be…” I don’t bother finishing my sentence. I don’t know how to finish the sentence. More friendly? Congenial? In love? I wish I could go back in time and take back the words that laid my confused heart bare.

Damien stares at me silently, watching, observing. Then, he speaks. “I’ll take this marriage seriously if it means protecting our families and your interests. But don’t think for a second that I won’t be watching your every move.”

“Good,” I retort, trying to hide the relief flooding through me as I realize I’ve successfully forced Damien’s hand to find a sliver of hope for myself. “Because I’ll be watching yours too.”

Damien’s dark eyes bore into mine, his expression unreadable. “I have a proposition for you,” he begins, and I brace myself for what comes next. “If you keep your mouth shut about what you overheard, I’ll make our marriage life easier for you. No mind games, no manipulation. Just two people trying to make the best of their situation.”

---