Page 10 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

I didn’t want to admit just how long that thought lingered with me, but as the night went on, I found myself contemplating what that could mean in turn for me. If she maintained some sort of tie with the paper, then surely there was a way I could take advantage of the opportunity.

Two birds, one stone kind of thing.

As the pieces clicked into place and the rest of my plan unfolded in my mind, I was decided by morning. While it would mostly help me in the end, it also felt like throwing a bone to Gemma. Sweetening the deal for her, in a sense.

The moment I spotted her passing through the threshold as she entered the room, I felt more assured about my plan. It appeared she accepted the clothes I had purchased for her, which seemed like a positive first step.

Even just looking at her brought me a sense of satisfaction.

While it was normal for the club lighting and atmosphere to make people seem more attractive than they really were, that didn’t apply to Gemma.

Standing in the naturally lit kitchen with her dark hair and the sharp edge of her green eyes, there was no denying her beauty. Even while wearing a knit sweater, her full curves looked so appealing and made me wish I could reach out and feel them for myself. She did such an incredible job of carrying herself confidently, even if she was hesitant about the situation.

But, of course, I wasn’t an animal. Time and place.

Still, a faint smirk remained on my face, satisfied by how it was all unfolding.

“Come sit,” I told her, gesturing to the chair on my right as I adjusted the papers in front of me. Even if I didn’t hide my smugness too diligently, I knew it would be better for us both if I acted like less of an asshole, so I chose my words carefully and kept my tone as inviting as possible.

Gemma was like a frightened deer, even if it seemed like she possessed claws at times. She was flighty, and if I wanted to have myself a cooperative wife, then I needed to act accordingly.

Those tempting eyes lingered on me for a moment as the beginning of a scowl formed on her lips. She glanced at the papers, and I could tell the gears were quickly moving in her head. There were even traces of fear lingering there, though she sat silently and looked more closed-off than anything, like she was attempting to seem neutral about the whole thing.

Letting go of a breath, I met her gaze. “I’ll cut to the chase to save us both some time. I know this is not a situation you likely ever wanted to find yourself in, but that is simply life. And since I’m aware of the unfortunate luck that made our paths cross, I figure I might as well make a deal with you. You know, as a token of good faith.”

Gemma regarded me critically, maintaining as much space between us as possible. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she loosely crossed her arms over her chest.

When she didn’t say anything, I leaned back in my chair. “I’ll give you a refresher of your choices, since I’ve added a few caveats since I last brought it up. First, you can willingly sign these legal papers and become my wife, returning to your internship on Monday via Levov escort as if nothing happened—plus, you get to stay in this nice house with me. The condition is that you also have to change the name in that article to someone else—we can discuss that part later.” Letting my words settle between us for a moment, my smirk grew. “Or, you will marry me anyway, and you’ll be forced to stay here and give up your work completely. Of course, that option is less tempting, but still…it is your choice to make.”

Every emotion that crossed her face intrigued me as my words settled in, and she watched me closely, never taking her eyes away. From shock to fear, to anger, and back to fear again—it all moved so quickly. And while I managed to catch them, she certainly put in the effort to mask her true feelings.

Sitting in that chair with her back straight as if receiving orders, Gemma looked at me like I was nothing but a monster. A cruel, deceitful blight in her life. I didn’t blame her; I knew what I was doing.

Unfortunately for her, the world out there could be much crueler than me.

“So you’ve taken death off the table then?” she asked, voice low and quiet.

With a muted chuckle, I leaned against my armrest and propped my chin up on a fist. “You could say I had a change of heart. You sounded so sweet shouting at me last night…how could I resist?”

Her nose twitched with subtle anger at that, perturbed by my ability to joke. Surely, it made her furious despite concealing it well.

“How kind of you…”

I found her muttered words amusing. Even while facing an impending change brought on by force, it seemed she truly did have a smart mouth. She was sharp, and I expected nothing less from an eager journalist like herself.

Grin pulling at my mouth, I cocked a brow. “So…what will it be then? The choice is in your hands: cooperate, or be compelled. Regardless of what you choose, you will leave this room a Levov. Might as well maintain as much autonomy as you can, right?”

My words were grating against her skin, evident in how she clenched her jaw and looked prepared to stand her ground for as long as necessary.

However, for a beat, consideration moved through her eyes, and she let go of a breath.

We both knew there was an obvious choice, but it was one she had to make herself.

While yes, I was coercing her into legally marrying me, I didn’t want to bear the brunt of that responsibility on my shoulders. One could say it was a means of keeping my conscience clean, and it removed some cognitive dissonance from such a gray situation.

I was certainly willing to do whatever needed to be done to help my family and to ensure our business was taken care of, but even I had principles.

It was something Ari had drilled into us ever since we were kids. You might make questionable decisions that go against your morals for the sake of the family, but the way you went about it ultimately decided your character. It decided whether you were truly wicked or simply a product of circumstance.

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