Page 15 of Forced Bratva Bride

“Take it. It has a recording device built into it. You can record conversations between you and the Dubrov, and perhaps between him and his brothers. You can spy for your father.”

“A spy?”

“Stop acting so stupid. Yes, a spy. It would help him to know what's going on inside their business. This wedding should never have taken place. We should not be linked to them like this.”

I take the knife. Unsure what to do with it, I quickly hide it in the closet.

When I turn to face Stefano again, he is close, and he whispers with a threat in his voice.

“Watch your back, Chiara. I don’t trust any of them.”

I am about to ask him what the hell his problem is, what makes him so against this marriage that he is handing me knives and recording devices, but suddenly Maxim walks in.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of the expression on his face.

He looks furious. How long has he been standing there? Did he see Stef giving me the knife? Did he hear what he said to me? My heart begins to thunder against my ribs, worry flooding me.

“What the hell is this?” his voice fills the room as he walks directly towards us.

“Stefano was just leaving.” I glare at my stepbrother, but he doesn’t move. He hates being told what to do, and I can see the bitterness in his face. I need him to get out of here right now, so that I can somehow get this situation under control. But he's as stubborn as a mule, and stands his ground, making the tension ten times worse.

“Stefano, she said you were just leaving.” Maxim’s voice is menacing, threatening.

Still my dumbass stepbrother doesn’t move. For fuck's sake, Stefano, get the hell out of here.

Maxim does not hesitate. He grabs the back of Stefano’s jacket and yanks him away from me. I gasp in fright at the way Maxim is escalating situation. Then, just as quickly as he moved against Stefano, he steps between him and me.

I peek around him at the sour look on Stef’s face. I want to grin—seeing him squirm like this, to see him challenged, is quite satisfying. But at the same time, I'm still stressing about what Maxim actually heard and saw.

“Are you telling me I am not allowed to talk with my sister?” he snaps, like a kid trying to justify himself.

“I am telling you to walk away from my wife before I rip your throat out.”

Maxim reaches behind himself, his hand protectively touching my waist.

A surge of heat sparks between my legs at his possessiveness, which is unexpected.

“I'm done here anyway.”

Stef storms out of the bedroom, and I hear the door closing behind him.

Maxim turns to face me, all of the anger gone from his expression. He reaches out and touches my face gently.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you in any way? I will kill him if he touched you.”

Does this mean he didn’t hear anything?

“I’m…okay,” I say, hesitantly.

“Are you sure? Was he harassing you? If he ever bothers you, you have to let me know. I won’t stand for it. You're my wife; no one has a right to upset you, not even your brother.”

“Stepbrother. He has always upset me. We never got on,” I say quietly, playing into his concern, because it means he didn't see the knife.

He steps closer to me, my back against the closet door again, his body pressed against mine. A small gasp escapes my lips as I feel him. He runs his hands over my throat, down the front of my dress. “I promise you, no one will ever hurt you as long as I am around,” he whispers, his voice dark and full of need.

My body sparks to life, as though lightening just jolted through me.

Maxim pauses, his face inches from mine.

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