Page 20 of The Bratva King's Claimed Bride

“This and a good fuck,” I chuckle. “Although I’m not getting that tonight.”

Chapter 7 - Arina

I cannot believe he handcuffed me. I’m not his damn slave. Then he throws me over his shoulder and carries me upstairs. I feel every muscle working with every step he takes.

I look down at the entrance hall, where everyone is scattered after he ends the wedding party.

“Time for you to see your new bedroom,” he says as he walks.

“I am not sleeping with you. I’d rather die,” I choke out.

“That can be arranged,” he says, but I know it’s an empty threat. He is obsessed with me for some reason.

He carries me down the hall and into the master bedroom, tossing me onto the bed.

The bed itself is a large four-poster bed with black curtains hanging around it. The room is antique-looking, with half wood paneling and half paint on the walls. There is an armchair in the corner, and I can see a door leading to what I can only assume is either a walk-in closet or an en-suite bathroom.

I glare up at Igor, my curly hair a mess around me.

“There are going to be some ground rules while you live here,” he says. “And you will abide by them or spend all your time locked in here.”

I don’t say anything, keeping stoic on the bed. He nods.

“First of all, you’re going to stop running away. We’re married now. It’s done. You are not undoing that.”

“So, I could undo it if I want to,” I threaten.

“But you won’t because I command it,” he growls.

I stare up at him, our eyes locking. I hope it hurt like hell when I kneed him in the balls. Fucking asshole is stealing my life away from me.

“Second rule, you apologize properly to Yvonne. Some guards can take you two out shopping, and you make it up to her. You don’t want to be on her bad side, as sweet as she seems.” He holds his hands out. “And no more kneeing me, kicking me, or anything like that. I won’t hit you or hurt you, so you don’t need to do it to me.”

“I will fight you every step of the way,” I say angrily.

“Then you will be tied up every step of the way.” He crosses the room and sits down on the armchair.

“When you’re ready to be civil, I will remove the cuffs so you can get changed.” He crosses his legs and arms and watches me. I refuse to give him any satisfaction.

“This is ridiculous,” I say. “I don’t even have anything to change into.”

“I’m sure one of my T-shirts will fit you fine for now. I’ll have Yvonne find your address and get your things.” He gives me a sinister-looking smile, and I can only assume he is picturing me naked.

“Go to hell.” I rest back and look away from him, trying my best to be comfortable in the position I’m in. This day has exhausted me, that’s for sure.

I don’t remember much else because I doze off, and when I startle myself awake, I’m curled up in my gown on the bed. I must have been sleeping soundly.

I look around. I can’t see Igor anywhere.

I move my hands and immediately notice the cuffs are off. I sit up straight as the door opens, and Yvonne walks in.

I swallow hard and watch as she sets down some clothes on the armchair. “So, you can change.”

“Yvonne, I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I can’t trust you,” she says, looking over at me coldly. “Why should I forgive you?”

“I promise I won’t use you like that again. Please? Maybe we can go shopping together?”

---