Page 70 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

Then, Damien turns around and lowers his gaze a little. The skin on my arms prickles. I know my husband well enough to know that he’s decided he’s given people enough of a show.

Lev clutches my hand. He knows, too.

We watch with petrified focus as the opponent lunges forward aggressively, punching the air to confuse Damien about which side he’ll attack from. Damien stands his ground and then, right in front of our eyes, throws a counter punch by simultaneously stepping back and assessing the opponent’s timing to his advantage.

“Did you see that?” Anoushka shouts, her eyes wild with enthusiastic energy. I nod at her, laughing as I do. The crowd goes crazy, and the opponent loses his focus for just a second.

He gets mad and lunges at Damien. Damien misses the lunge but absorbs a crushing punch to the gut, wincing. I see the brief flash of pain on his face before his expression hardens with resolve. He won’t surrender. The crowd cries for blood, but he tunes them out, eyes burning with purpose.

In a blur of movement, Damien strikes, punching the man straight in the jaw, and proceeds with a kick straight into his opponent’s chest. The man crashes to the floor and lies there, not getting up.

The referee calls the match, and the crowd goes insane. But Damien just stands there.

“Why isn’t he celebrating?” Lev mutters.

I don’t know, but something tells me we’re about to find out. Damien goes over to where the opponent’s lying and puts him in a chokehold. Some of the crowd begins to protest, and the referee gets angry at Damien, trying to pry him away.

But before Damien can be pulled off, he zeroes in on the other fighter’s gloves. He rips them off, turns them inside out, and raises them to the sky, revealing the needles concealed within.

The referee, stunned beyond belief, grabs the gloves to examine them and staggers to the floor. He throws them aside in shock.

We all watch with agonizing patience as Damien makes sure he’s okay. The opponent tries to run out of the ring, but a few people hold on to him and drag him to the back, where he will be dealt with in due time.

The referee stands, now regaining some color in his face. “The.. the gloves,” he screams at the crowd. “They’re poisoned.”

The crowd is in an uproar, and angry shouts and demands for justice ring out in the arena.

Damien sways on his feet, battered but unbroken. He lifts his chin in defiance and I know he’s fighting not just for himself, but for us. For the life we will one day share.

Pride and love swell within me. As the chaos rages on, Damien’s eyes find mine in the crowd. In that wordless moment, we are bound together against all odds.

***

Lev shakes his head in disbelief beside me. “I can’t believe that bastard tried to poison him,” he growls. “But Damien saw right through it.”

“Something tells me my father had something to do with it,” I mumble.

I take a deep, steadying breath as the referee raises Damien’s hand in victory. The crowd is still roaring, outraged by the opponent’s underhanded tricks. But Damien remains calm and collected, his intense gaze fixed on me across the arena.

In this moment, everything else fades away. The deafening noise, the pulsing lights, the fury of the spectators—it all disappears, and only Damien remains.

His muscular chest rises and falls with each ragged breath. He stands tall and proud, radiating a quiet power and confidence. The thrill of victory glimmers in his eyes, but it is his love for me that shines brightest of all.

I feel a deep relief at the realization that this is it. This is the last time he would ever stand in that ring. He survived, he’s safe, and finally, we have won our chance at happiness.

Chapter 27 - Damien

Alexai’s eyes widen in alarm as the ring manager leads him to his own personal office.

“Y…you liar,” Alexai bellows at the manager. The manager shrugs and accepts the wad of cash Boris gives him before leaving Alexai with us.

“What do y’all three want?” Alexai stammers, looking at each of us in turn. He plasters an unconvincing smile on his greasy face.

Lev cracks his knuckles, and Boris folds his arms across his chest, the muscles on his arms bulging. I remain composed, studying Alexai.

“The trick with the poisoned needles,” I say casually. “Care to explain?”

Alexai’s smile falters. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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