Page 21 of The Bratva King's Twins

Regardless of how well it went, at the end of the day, I was a kind of prisoner in that house. I didn’t have my autonomy, and I couldn’t choose to go home—or go anywhere else, for that matter.

Despite my previously good mood, it all crumbled as I looked at him and felt deceived by his relief, as if it were a kind of victory to him.

“Well?” I questioned as that familiar anger swelled inside me. “You think any of this is going well?”

Ari looked startled by my response, like he'd surely expected me to feel the same. “Vivian—”

“You were parading me around as if I consented to any of this. Like you didn’t force me to marry you just to humiliate my dad,” I snapped, cutting him off.

Overwhelmed by the fact that I was trapped in that house, forced to play the role of his happy little wife despite how much it made my stomach turn, I let go of the reasonable mask I had been wearing for him.

Recognition moved through his eyes then as Ari raised a calming hand toward me, along with at least a sliver of guilt. “That was the idea initially, but it’s more than just that.”

“How?” I questioned, feeling the last of my patience slipping away. “You forced all of this on me, and despite hauling me here like I was nothing, you want me to act like things are normal for your family? You want me to pretend like I’m not losing my mind being here? You can’t really be that delusional.”

I watched as he fluctuated between emotions as I spoke, landing on irritation at last. He put his hands against the island counter and leaned closer, narrowing his eyes at me. “Was it such a bad thing that I took you away from that place? I saw those bruises on your wrists that night, but I didn’t pry because it’s none of my business. I don’t imagine marks like that come from a happy home.”

Bristling at the reminder, aware that he was right to think so, I turned away from him and averted my eyes. It seemed he was good at striking that nerve in me.

“You have no right to bring that up to excuse what you did,” I muttered, feeling the surge of emotion in my face. “Going from one cage to another isn’t mercy.”

Ari was taken aback by the statement, and he scoffed. “You think this is a cage? You weren’t even locked in that bedroom, for Christ’s sake! I’ve left you alone to do whatever you want in this house, but you spent your time moping around and longing for a place you were clearly mistreated in.”

“Stop,” I mumbled, hating how he used my upbringing as a weapon against me, as a way for him to earn points in some kind of good book.

“You have no idea the kind of fate you’d have if your dad was successful in selling you off like he planned to. You would’ve been married to someone two to three times your age, to a brutal man who didn’t care about what you wanted or needed. You’d be forced to carry his children, no matter how much he demands from you, and you’d be left to rot like any other breeding mare in the world of organized crime,” Ari said, voice raising as he went on. “I offered you an escape, whether you want to see it or not! I gave you a warm bed, clothes, food that you hardly wanted, and all the space you could ever need to come around to the idea of being my wife. Is that such an impossible role to have?”

“You say it like you aren’t a brutal man,” I retorted, meeting his gaze again. “You did this to me. I never asked for any of it! I’m so sorry a nice bed, food, and complete isolation from the outside world couldn’t make up for being forced to marry a man I don’t even know!”

Ari gritted his teeth, and I had the feeling we weren’t done yet.

Chapter 9 - Ari

The two of us went back and forth like that for some time, going in an endless circle.

By the time we both stood there, catching our breath in the kitchen with anger flaring in our eyes, we were too worn out to keep going.

At last, the volume came down again, and the room was nearly silent as neither of us could think of what to do next, or how to approach the tumultuous ground between us.

I knew we were at a complete impasse.

No matter how I tried to make the transition easier for her, it didn’t seem to be working. She still thought I was the worst person in the world, and I had no idea if I could ever change her mind about that.

That cynical thought left a bitter taste in my mouth as I turned away from her and leaned against the counter with my arms crossed.

Tired of fighting and at a loss of how to make things better, I took a breath and shook my head absently.

Vivian was right. She didn’t know me. I didn’t make much of an effort to level with her or to help her understand me better, and surely that had only made matters worse.

But that needed to change.

Bringing my voice down to a soft volume, I began, “I’ve been taking care of my siblings since I was a kid myself. The first time I changed Kir’s diaper when my mom was too sick during her pregnancy with Lara to take proper care of him was when I realized how fragile small children really are.”

My words seemed to catch Vivian by surprise as she glanced over at me, looking confused yet vaguely interested in what I had to say.

When she didn’t speak up, I continued, “We grew up in Russia alongside our cousins. We were a normal family, and all of his children were the apple of Dad’s eye. He doted on Mom, and everything was great until after she gave birth to Kir. I guess the delivery was hard, and she didn’t heal long enough before getting pregnant with Lara. She passed during the delivery, and while we gained a sister, we lost our mom. Since Dad was so focused on the family business, he left me to parent them all before I was even old enough to drive or go to high school.”

I watched as Vivian’s head tipped slightly, and her shoulders slumped empathetically.

---