Page 69 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

“Damien,” she says, “Wait.”

I pause, turning to face Genevieve as she catches up to me, her green eyes searching mine. Despite the urgency in her voice, there’s a softness to her features that makes my heart ache with longing.

“Genevieve,” I murmur, the name like a prayer on my lips.

“I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tired of not speaking my thoughts out loud. I miss you, Damien. I’ve been a fool to push you away.”

Her words hit me like a physical blow, and all the emotions I’ve been suppressing come rushing to the surface.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” I admit, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly. “I love you, Genevieve. More than anything.”

“And I love you,” she mutters, getting on her toes to give me a sweet kiss. “Go give this last fight your all, and come back safe to me. Remember, there’s a girl waiting for you backstage, and don’t you dare disappoint her.”

“Never,” I say, kissing her one last time before entering the arena.

What I don’t tell her is that she has nothing to worry about. I already know what tactics I must use.

Chapter 26 - Genevieve

I watch with bated breath as Damien steps into the harsh light of the ring. Boris, Lev, and Anoushka now stand by my side, each of us praying to give him strength.

Damien’s eyes are narrowed and his jaw is set with determination. The crowd roars, hungry for violence, but I care not for victory, just his safe return.

The two men begin to fight. The opponent rages at him, and Damien ducks and twists his feet to change his position. The opponent follows, and Damien changes position again.

Lev leans against the barrier beside me, his sharp gaze tracking Damien’s every move. “He’s playing it defensively,” he notes, brow furrowing. “See how he’s keeping his guard up, avoiding direct hits?”

I study Damien, noting the coiled tension in his muscles. He dodges and weaves, unwilling to fully engage. Realization hits me like a blow to the chest—his opponent must be fighting dirty. Damien’s choosing to defend himself. An icy fist of fear squeezes my heart. How long can Damien keep this up? If he gets tired…

“Come on, Brother,” Lev mutters. “Keep it together.”

The opponent, fueled by rage and desperation, lunges forward with a series of wild punches that Damien expertly sidesteps. I hold my breath as a vicious uppercut narrowly misses Damien’s jaw, the force of the wind from the blow ruffling his dark hair.

Lev’s sharp eyes catch every nuance of the fight. “He’s biding his time,” Lev mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the thunderous cheers of the crowd. “Wait for it.”

And then it happens. In a split second of opportunity that feels like an eternity, Damien’s entire body tenses, his focus sharp and unwavering. His opponent steps forward with a cruel smile, aiming for Damien’s vulnerable side. With lightning speed, Damien blocks the blow and counters with a swift kick that sends the man sprawling to the ground.

The crowd erupts into chaos, shocked by the sudden turn of events. People all around us scream, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Lev grips the barrier tightly, relief flashing in his eyes. Anoushka lets out a whoop of joy, her laughter infectious in the tense atmosphere.

The man gets back on his feet, his face red with rage. He’s ready to kill, and I feel my heart lurch to my stomach.

I clench my fists as Damien squares up to face his enraged opponent, the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Lev’s voice is a soothing anchor in the midst of the chaos around us.

“He’s got this, Genevieve. Trust him,” Lev’s words are a lifeline.

His adversary lunges forward, throwing punches with the ferocity of a heavyweight contender on a knockout mission. I close my eyes and mumble prayers under my breath at his attack, petrified that this one would put Damien down for good.

But then, I hear Anoushka yell with excitement, “Go, Brother! Put him in his place.”

I open my eyes wide and look around. How did Damien escape that?

The crowd’s energy is a palpable force surrounding us, the noise unbearable.

I look at the ring. Damien, with his back to the ropes, seems cornered for a moment, and the opponent lunges with a vengeance, but Damien uses a bolo punch to distract him and uses a backpedal to break free from his constricting corner.

“Oh, thank God!” I murmur.

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