Page 10 of Forced Bratva Bride

“Stefano, this is what our family needs,” my father replies calmly.

I glare at my stepbrother. “Dad knows what he's doing. Why don’t you just trust his decisions and stay out of this?” I snap at him.

He shoots a death glare at me. His eyes fierce and threatening. He hates it when I talk back to him, as though I should have automatic respect for him because he's a man and older than I am. Well, he can go to hell.

My own words surprise me, though, because I know I don’t want this. But if my father needs this of me, for our family, and if he is struggling financially as he suggests and this will solve it, then I have to do it. My father means the world to me, and I will do anything to make him happy and keep him safe.

“What? You suddenly want all of this? I thought you were angry about being forced to marry some idiot you don’t even know,” Stefano spits.

“You know nothing about me, Stefano. Don’t pretend to understand anything I want or feel.”

“Come on, you two, this should be a happy day. We can’t have our family infighting.”

“She needs to learn her place. If she speaks to her new husband like that, he will be kicking her out before the week is over. Her attitude is—"

“Stefano,” my father’s deep voice warns, and my stepbrother closes his mouth, pulling it tight and lifting his chin, not enjoying the reprimand.

“Sweetheart, we're almost ready for you. Shall we head out—"

“Actually, Dad, can I just have a moment alone, please? I've been surrounded by people since the second I opened my eyes this morning, and I just want to gather my thoughts.”

“Of course, of course. Come on, Stefano, let’s give your sister a moment to herself.”

Stepsister, I correct in my mind, denying any direct relation to that asshole.

Stefano sneers in my direction. “Fine,” he snaps, bitterly.

My father ushers him out of the room and closes the door.

The silence is so sudden that it feels heavy.

I walk over to the window to look out onto the massive garden and the wide, bright green lawn where the chairs have been set up and people are gathering. A long red carpet leads toward the altar where I am about to give my life away.

I watch the people moving around, wondering what it would be like if, instead of a bunch of people I don’t know, they were friends and family, and I was feeling happy.

A soft knock at the door makes my eyes roll. I guess I don’t get a moment of peace, after all.

“Come in.”

Maxim steps inside, closing the door behind himself.

He walks toward me, so I turn to face him.

His eyes give everything away. As soon as he catches his first sight of me in the wedding dress, they shoot wide open in shock. He swallows. The corner of his mouth turns upward, then breaks out into a full smile.

He is staring. Not just looking at me, but full-on staring.

Maxim clears his throat, and I can see he is trying to pull his thoughts together. I don’t say a word, enjoying his reaction and how he seems to be struggling.

My eyes trace over his tall build, his broad shoulders, and how the custom-made suit fits snuggly over his body, showing off his physique.

His light brown, shoulder-length hair curls slightly at the ends, and his square jaw and bright blue eyes make him look like he belongs on the cover of a magazine or just stepped out of one of those old romantic movies. He looks drop-dead gorgeous.

I don’t want to be admiring him, though, so I turn my face way, feeling angry. I'm still mad at him for the way he played me. He tricked me, and I hate him for it.

After what my father said about being in debt, I have a clearer picture of how this all came about. The Dubrov family forced this on him, twisting his arm and using his financial struggles against him to arrange this union. It is just another reason for me to hate him.

“I just wanted to come and see you before it all started. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says, gently. He steps even closer to me, and the scent of his cologne washes over me.

---