Page 13 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

“Get yourself ready,” Ben said from the other side, voice unshaken with resolve. “We’re going to meet my family for dinner to celebrate.”

My stomach dropped at the idea. Family. Celebrate.

He couldn’t be serious.

Brows furrowing, I couldn’t ignore how the thought of meeting any more of them made me wish I could get swallowed up by the floor. It had been hard enough dealing with the impromptu ceremony, but for whatever reason, he decided to drive the nail in a little further.

“No,” I muttered, voice loud enough for him to hear. “Go alone.”

There was a brief pause before Ben spoke up again. “Don’t be difficult. They’d like to meet my new wife.”

Even if his voice didn’t make any indication of it, I couldn’t help but picture his face with a big smirk on it as he said those words. It seemed fitting, anyway.

The way he tried to demand to do anything made my blood boil. “I’ll be as difficult as I want. I’m not going.”

I just barely caught the sound of his sigh while that silence returned for a beat.

“I’m not going to argue about this with you, and it isn’t negotiable,” Ben replied, sounding more annoyed this time. “I don’t want to hear it. Just get up and get ready. You have an hour.”

While I had never been the angriest person, the rage moved through me was akin to what a teenager felt whenever their parents nagged them. Except he was my husband by law according to the papers we signed, and as he said, he wouldn’t accept anything but cooperation.

I wished I could slap him then, but it was no use. None of it was.

Letting go of an annoyed breath as I tried to wrangle with that sheer anger, I pushed myself out of bed and made my way over to the bathroom.

While I cleaned myself up and got ready, I couldn’t help but dwell on the whole ordeal. I just couldn’t understand what I did to deserve any of it. What karmic scale I had pushed in the wrong direction to warrant being trapped with someone like Ben.

Sure, he was attractive and charming, but he was also horrible and cruel for ever forcing me into marrying him. I just couldn’t come to terms with it.

Eventually, I got dressed into something more suitable for going to a restaurant, silently grumbling to myself as I sifted through the new clothes.

And while I wanted to ignore Ben and just stay in that bedroom, I didn’t want to deal with him otherwise. I didn’t want to find myself hauled down the stairs and forced to the restaurant all because I refused.

Instead, I preferred to keep my dignity intact, regardless of how furious I was.

Reaching the main floor, Ben faced me as he adjusted the cuffs on his navy blue button-down that he tucked into his black trousers. His hair was neatly slicked back in a way that somehow accentuated his facial features more, and his face was freshly shaven.

Almost imperceptibly, his brows went up by a mere fraction when he looked at me, and as angry as I was, it still managed to catch my attention.

His gaze had seemed contemplative at first, but as his eyes did a full scan of me, a barely-there grin lingered on his face.

“Ready?”

With a begrudging sigh, I nodded.

Sealing my fate for the evening, Ben remained close to me as we went out to the car, as if worried I might try to bolt. Unfortunately for me, it was unlikely that I’d magically become a track star and somehow manage to outrun him or his men.

Maintaining that disdain as I went with him, I watched blankly as he popped the car door open for me, and I slid inside without saying a word. Not even a ‘thanks.’

It was unlike me. I usually took manners very seriously, but it seemed he was bringing out the worst in me. I didn’t want to show gratitude to a man who had very little regard for me.

The door closed behind me and Ben made his way to the opposite side. Letting out a breath of thinly veiled irritation, he dropped into his seat.

Soon enough, we were on the road, and the silence was deafening.

Neither of us were happy, that much was clear.

While I was glad to see he wasn’t gloating, it was almost unnerving to witness him being so quiet. It seemed very unlike him—at least, that was what I assumed after what little time I had been around him.

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