Page 2 of Forced Bratva Bride

I rub my hand across my chin, feeling the shadow of stubble, closing my eyes for a moment to let my mind settle. I don’t actually have a choice. And once I have the information they're looking for, I can always leave the marriage. It’s not ideal, in any way whatsoever, but they aren’t asking me to storm a castle, just to politely step inside it and look around.

I sigh, opening my eyes to glance from one brother to the other.

Finally, I nod. “How are you planning on arranging this?” My voice is tight.

Paval smiles. “I actually made contact with Angelo last night, planting the seed, just an idea. And he seemed keen to discuss it further. I'll give him a call after this meeting and set up something more concrete. I just wanted to talk to you about it first.”

The sour look on my face obviously does not go unnoticed. Kiril chuckles at me. “It’s time, little brother. You knew the day would come eventually.”

“I guess I did. But it doesn’t mean I have to be thrilled about it.” I smile tightly.

My brothers go on to talk about what they expect of me, which essentially involves finding out if the Napoli family is involved at all in the sabotage that has been taking place over the past six months or so. I listen quietly, taking in what they are saying but wondering what I'm getting myself into.

After the meeting is finished, I gather my things and head over to my own office to check on all the incoming and outgoing shipments for the week. But I am struggling to focus, and my thoughts feel scattered and messy.

I see myself as a pretty down-to-earth person, and by nature, I know my strong point is not deception. I wonder how I'm going to manage pretending to love some girl I have never met. Although, with these arranged marriages, both parties are generally a bit reluctant in the beginning, so a bit of awkwardness would be normal.

I slam the folder in front of me closed.

I have been staring blankly at the page for thirty minutes.

I'm going to head out to the docks to check on things in person. I can’t sit here anymore; my thoughts are drowning me.

I push my lean, muscular body away from the desk and take a deep breath.

Angelo’s daughter’s name is Chiara. I think she is only around twenty-three or twenty-four, fresh out of university. I can’t imagine she is going to be very happy about this plan.

I have never met her.

I walk out of the office into the parking lot, pulling open the door of my matte black Range Rover. I toss my folder of documents onto the passenger seat and climb in.

The engine starts with a growl, the car rumbling beneath me as I pull out and head towards the docks.

When I arrive, two of my men rush over. They both look stressed. “Maxim, we were just about to call you.”

“What's going on?” I ask, climbing out and slamming the door shut.

“Something's wrong. The shipment was packed and ready to leave, but guy who was supposed to arrive to collect is refusing to come. He says we can’t make urgent requests at the last minute unless we're willing to cover the additional cost.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. We booked it weeks ago.”

“He says otherwise.”

“What the fuck?” I grumble, walking toward the field office so that I can get on the laptop and see what the hell is going on.

I stand in the container, hammering the keyboard in annoyance and pulling up the booking confirmation. “There it is,” I say, pointing to the screen.

“I know, Maxim, I already sent it to him.”

“And?” My agitation is getting worse.

“And he says you canceled shortly after making that booking.”

My brows knot together. “I definitely didn’t.”

“Here.” He holds his phone toward me, showing a screenshot of an e-mail. I take the phone from his hand and zoom in on the details. It says it came from my address, but I know I didn’t send it.

I shake my head, dialing Paval on my own phone.

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