Page 38 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

I know what he's talking about. If I go through with the marriage, then I have to share a bed with Maxim. There’s a possibility of having children but sleeping with him is definitive. His family won’t consider the marriage legitimate unless I do, and I doubt that he’ll spend the rest of his life in a marriage without sex.

Well, that might not be the most horrifying thing I've ever thought about doing. The thought of being forced to marry a man I don’t love absolutely terrifies me. Pair that with the fact that he killed my father, and when he finds out who I am, I don't know how I'll make it out alive.

“I'll do it,” I say, my voice wavering and nearly cracking.

“I always knew you would. You've always done what it takes. You're willing to make the sacrifices that nobody else can. That might be one of the things I admire about you the most.”

Somehow that compliment doesn't sit as well as it used to before.

Nicolo gets up, nodding to me as he passes the table before leaving the restaurant.

If marriage is what it takes to kill a monster, then I guess I'm walking down the aisle.

Chapter 13 - Maxim

Pearl sweeps into the room like an angel descending from the heavens, her skirt trailing on the floor. The little crop top she wears shows off the slip of skin between the hem of her shirt and the top of the skirt.

Heads turn as she passes them, but she's a woman on a mission, her mouth set in a grim line as she heads straight toward my table.

“You could look a little happier to see your future husband,” I say, mocking her as she draws closer to the table, not paying attention to the dozen or so men still staring after her.

Briefly this morning, I'd considered making this a calm meeting, taking our time to talk instead of arguing with each other. Maybe seeing what it would take to get her to be more agreeable.

After all, she is the only one who could save me from Irina.

Except when I see her, I can't resist the urge to get under her skin, to fire her up, and see those flames flash in her eyes.

Pearl drags out her chair and sits across for me, one leg loping over the other. Her foot bounces in time with the music as she looks around, spying on the men I have in the corner watching over us. “You think you need protection from me?”

“Maybe. I think we've established that I still don't know you and I pissed you off a few nights ago. I don't think you're going to take too kindly to talk about my proposal. And if you try to jump me and strangle me, I'd like somebody to try to get between us.”

“I'm more of a poison girl.”

I snap my fingers, pointing at her, smirking when the corner mouth twitches as if she's trying to hold back laughter. “I knew you didn't hate me as much as you pretend to.”

“I never said I hate you. I am pissed off with you. You decided to fly back. You decide to cut me off. Then you decide that we're going to get married. We're in this process have I made a single decision?”

“You're the one who decided to talk today.”

“Only because I was certain you'd come breaking down my door soon if I didn't give you an answer.”

“I might have. That all depends on whether you've been seeing other men or not.”

Her eyelashes flutter as her eyes widen with shock. “No. I haven't been on a date since that night you and I went out.”

For a moment I study her, trying to determine if she's lying to me or not. There are no micro-expressions that change. No twitch of a muscle here or a quick glance away that would suggest that she's making stories up or telling me what she thinks I want to hear.

If she hasn't gone out since the night, we went out together, then maybe there is something redeeming between the two of us.

Maybe this doesn't have to be a union neither of us wants.

Pearl rolls her shoulders back, her gaze drifting toward the tin ceiling above us as she avoids looking at me. “If I agree to marry you, there’s something I need you to do.”

I lean against the booth, my arms stretching out over the back of it. “I had assumed as much. You always seem to have conditions.”

“Can you blame me? Most people would have those when making a deal with the devil.”

“I'm honored you think my work is as good as his,” I smirk and lean forward, taking her hand with one of mine, my finger tracing along her pulse. “You're nervous about being here with me. You don't have to be. I'm not going to hurt you. “

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