Page 11 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

I look down at his arm and back up at him. “You don’t have to put up an act anymore.”

"Anoushka," he murmurs into my ear, leaning closer and placing his hand on mine. "You don't have to be so tense. We're married now, remember?”

Taking advantage of this moment alone at the reception, I decide it's time to address my concerns with Nikolai. The weight of his on mine feels suffocating, and I can't ignore the unease that has settled within me any longer.

"Can we talk?" I ask softly, careful not to draw attention from the guests still milling about.

"Of course," he replies, his dark eyes searching mine.

"Your… proximity is making me uncomfortable," I admit, nervously playing with the edge of my napkin. "This marriage is supposed to be a business arrangement, not a romantic relationship."

Nikolai's expression shifts, a flash of something akin to irritation crossing his features before he smooths it away. "Anoushka, we may have entered into this union for strategic reasons, but that doesn't mean we can't allow ourselves to enjoy each other's company."

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words to make him understand. "I know, but there's a difference between enjoying each other's company and… and behaving like we're madly in love."

"Is that so wrong?" His voice is low and intimate, causing an involuntary shiver to run down my spine. "Would you prefer I treat you like a business partner rather than my wife?"

"Actually, yes," I answer, more firmly than I thought possible. "That's what we agreed upon, isn't it?"

"Anoushka," he says, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "We may have agreed to a practical arrangement, but we are still husband and wife. I never said this marriage means nothing beyond a wedding. I expect you to fulfill your spousal duties, whether you like it or not, the very same way I will mine."

My heart drops, panic rising in my chest as I realize the magnitude of the situation I've found myself in. This isn't just a simple business merger—it's a binding commitment to a man who expects me to be his wife in all ways that matter, regardless of what I planned along for myself. He just dictates what he wants without it ever being a conversation between us.

And then, cold fury takes over. Just who the hell does he think he is, making such demands of me?

Chapter 5 - Nikolai

As I watch Anoushka's beautiful cheeks flush with anger, it's clear that my declaration has ignited a fire within her. She turns her chair toward me, leaning in quickly to close the distance between us, and she looks up at me defiantly.

"Listen, Nikolai, just because we're married now doesn't mean I'm going to be your obedient little wife," she hisses, her voice venomous but barely louder than a whisper. "No one, least of all you, will control me."

I can't help the smirk that plays on my lips. Of course, I never expected her to bend to me right away; she is a Zolotov, after all, and a brat at that, from what I’ve observed. She’s used to it, getting things the way she wants. Even planning this wedding had been a task, her brothers often delaying decisions to pass everything through her first.

But there's something undeniably intriguing about her fiery spirit that keeps me engaged, and I realize I wouldn’t want this trait of hers to change. I like that she stands tall, yet at the same time, a little flexibility would be required to make this marriage what I envision it to be.

"While we’re at it," I say, leaning in closer. "Anoushka, please let me remind you that this marriage was not my choice either. But there was no other way to bond our families, to safeguard both the Zolotov and Orlov interests. As your husband, it's my responsibility to protect you and ensure your safety. Like it or not, that means you'll have to follow my lead sometimes. At the same time, it only feels fair that you, too, should consider what a wife’s role might be in a husband’s life. I am a giver," I clarify, and then reach over without thinking, gently caressing her cheek. “But it’s also nice to be thought of, to be a taker once in a while.”

Her eyes narrow dangerously, and for a moment, I wonder if she's going to slap me. Instead, she clenches her fists, throws back her head to pull away from my touch, and glares at me with a fierceness I haven't seen from her before.

And that motion, that anger, that fight in her beautiful eyes as she tries to stare me down unsuccessfully makes me wonder what it would be like to have her unleash upon me… in bed.

"Protecting me doesn't mean controlling me, Nikolai," she retorts, her words laced with bitterness. "And don't think for a second that I won't stand up for myself when necessary."

My patience wearing thin, I place my hands on her shoulders, gripping them firmly but not painfully, forcing her to look me in the eye. "Anoushka, I’m not being unreasonable here. Like it or not, we're stuck with each other now. It would be wise for us not to suffer while we do, and falling into our roles as husband and wife might just make both our lives more pleasant. Who knows? You might even learn to enjoy it!”

She looks away, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. As much as I’m beginning to regret the thought of being married to this stubborn woman, I can't deny that there's something about her resistance that awakens a primal need within me to conquer her over, to chase her till she’s mine.

She’ll see, with time, that I’d been right all along.

"Enjoy it? With you?" she hisses back. “Never!”

With that, she stands and begins to walk away. I immediately push back my chair, following her to the corner of the room. If there are prying eyes, I hardly notice, given how my eyes are reserved for her and her alone.

Just as she’s about to walk out of the room, I catch her by her arm. She jerks her head back and, on noticing how we’re surrounded by people, plasters on a fake smile and turns to face me. “Let me go,” she says.

“Not until we settle this matter,” I tell her.

"So this is how you want this marriage to be? With me fulfilling these duties you speak of," she blushes here and pauses momentarily, her chest heaving with anger and her hands shaking with nervousness, "whatever they might be?" She finishes her sentence.

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