Page 17 of The Bratva King's Twins

Seeing how she hesitated around me as if I might bite at any given moment stung, but I told myself to push it away. She looked prepared for me to shout at her, but that wasn’t what I had in mind, and I didn’t want to fuel her preconceived notions of me.

When she still didn’t say anything, I murmured, “We’re having dinner with my family tonight. I’m making arrangements now, and you’ll have the chance to meet them all.”

There was no missing the fear as it flashed in her eyes, truly alarmed at last. The color drained from her face.

Instinctively, she shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“You might not want to, but it’s happening anyway,” I returned, bracing myself for another tantrum. “You have a few hours to get ready, then everyone will be here to meet you.”

As much as I didn’t want to push her too much or cause any more problems between us, I needed her to acclimate herself to our new life together. It was strange and uncomfortable, but it had to be done for the marriage to work.

The sooner she accepted it, the sooner we could develop some sort of genuine connection, rather than just what was printed on paper.

Despite her fear, there was no denying how beautiful Vivian looked in that moment as the early evening light streamed in through the window and brought out the natural blonde highlights in her hair. While her eyes were wide and bordering panic, the green in them seemed to sparkle.

There was nothing extraordinarily done-up about her appearance, wearing a simple outfit consisting of an oversized knit sweater and yoga pants with her locks splayed over her shoulders. It was simple, yet put her natural beauty on full display for me to appreciate.

It made me wish there hadn’t been any kind of discomfort or rockiness between us. If we had met organically and had the chance to get to know one another, everything would be so much easier.

But I didn’t exactly enter her life in a way that could’ve built a solid foundation for us to work with.

Again, I could only blame myself for that, but it didn’t change how I wanted her to see me beyond the brute she assumed I was.

Even if she hated me, just looking at Vivian was enough to evoke such a strong yearning to be near her, and to understand how she affected me without even trying. She caught my eye the moment I started doing research into her family, and while I assumed it would fizzle away with time, that desire to know her never did.

My moment of adoration for her features and how perfect she looked shattered the moment she stood with a look of complete refusal on her face, and that startling reality brought me back down to earth.

With resolve, Vivian fixed her lips in a straight line as she tucked the book underneath her arm and went straight for the hallway. “I’m not doing it. You can’t introduce me like some happy bride who wants any of this.”

Sighing, I followed her out of the room, able to take longer strides than her, despite her hastened steps as she headed for the bedroom again. “Give me a break, Vivian.”

“I don’t think you deserve one,” she snapped, attempting to slam the door in my face.

But I caught it with a hand before it could hit me, and I pushed it open again as she hurried over to the bed and hid. We were back to square one again.

My blood was boiling once again, but I bit my tongue. There were so many things I could’ve said to her at that moment, but they would do more harm than good.

If I wanted any kind of peace between us, I had to lead by example. Fighting her fire with even more would burn the whole house down, and I wasn’t willing to go through anything worse than our current condition.

“Listen,” I began, even as she faced away from me and pulled the covers over her head. “You can either get ready in the time I’m giving you, or you can be prepared to head down in your current state. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. You’re going to eat downstairs for once and meet my family regardless.”

There was a moment of silence before her muffled voice came through the duvet. “You could force me into marrying you, but you can’t make me do anything else.”

Tempering my irritation, I straightened my shoulders and drew from my well of authority. “Fighting me won’t make this any better. The sooner you realize this won’t just go away, the happier you’ll be.”

“Happy,” she muttered, voice bitter. “I don’t know what that is anymore, thanks to you.”

Scoffing, I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “Apparently, you didn’t know it back home, either.”

As that silence settled between us again, I immediately regretted the words, but I couldn’t take them back.

Forcing out another breath, I didn’t know what to say to make it better. I had the feeling it was just more salt in her wounds, and trying to fix it would make everything worse.

“I don’t want to hear any more arguments or whatever else you might have to say about it. Get ready, or don’t. Your choice. But either way, you will be at that dinner table by seven.”

Not caring to hear more of her grumblings, I left the room and headed straight for the master bedroom with my phone in my hand as I made catering arrangements. I had to cool off before I said anything worse.

Feeling the need to wash away the anger and any residual frustration from our lackluster conversation, I stripped down and hopped in the shower.

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