Page 5 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

Allowing the tension to linger between us, I tilted my head slightly as I took her in, analyzing her both as a man with a legacy and family to protect, as well as one brimming with interest and selfish desires.

“You can either marry me and drop the article like it never happened, or you disappear without a trace, and so will this story.”

Not a word came from her for a moment as silence settled over the room, charged with immediate fear and hesitancy from Gemma. The strain in her was palpable, even if she tried to remain guarded while she processed the options I laid out before her.

A light blush overcame her plump cheeks as her eyes gleamed with fear.

There was no doubt she realized that my conditions were a trap, and she was the helpless, losing bunny ensnared within it.

Chapter 3 - Gemma

There were no words that could measure up to the severity of my situation or describe how genuinely shocked I was.

Staring at him—gawking, really—while I tried to form the most basic of words, it simply wouldn’t happen.

While I knew the Levovs were notorious, I never could’ve anticipated that sudden turn of events. How I was either to marry him—a man I didn’t know beyond his name and the egregious actions of his family—or find myself missing just like the poor victims I studied for the article.

It was an impossible position, and while I was terrified out of my mind, something within urged me to stand my ground. To not fold or give in.

Even so, it was difficult to truly grasp the situation. Ben's proposal caught me off-guard even more than his good looks had the moment I laid eyes on him, and I didn’t have the background to understand how to handle it.

I swallowed hard, not averting my gaze from his more intense, dominant one that served as a hard pivot from his previous disinterest—or at the very least, his reluctance to figure out what I was there for.

Despite my fear and how much of a struggle it was to maintain my composure, there was no denying how gorgeous Ben was. Those blue-gray eyes were captivating, especially with his dark hair slicked back and out of his face.

He was built like a god, yet the fine material of his navy button-down clung to his somewhat slender waist. The size of his shoulders and biceps gave away the natural muscle concealed beneath the layers. There was something agonizingly beautiful and intense about him, almost like I was looking into the face of temptation itself.

But as those eyes seemed a touch colder while he flexed a new sense of authority over me within the private room, I felt like I walked myself into a wolf den, and there was no way I’d be able to leave unscathed.

As much as I wanted to blame anyone else, potentially even greater powers that be, I knew it was all my fault. It was my fault for ambitiously taking on that article for my internship and digging in deeper than what was required. I was the one who decided to give the Levovs the benefit of the doubt by showing them to article beforehand. At that moment, it was easy to realize the grave error I made.

Even in the face of his unshakeable intimidation and edge, I pulled in a breath and tried to steel myself against his attempt to force my hand. I returned his challenge with a glare of my own. “Your proposition is barbaric,” I muttered, leaning back in the chair as I crossed my arms over my chest with the slightest hope of putting a boundary between us. “I won’t marry you, and I can’t give up the article. It’s all I have.”

Ben continued to stare me down, narrowing his gaze somewhat. It was calculating and all-consuming, not leaving any room for me to try and escape it.

It was obvious he had many years of practice perfecting the silent demand in his eyes—a display of his intentions and how he didn’t plan to be outdone or undermined.

As I weathered that stare, I could feel pieces of my resolve being chipped away. Not by his expectant look but by how alluring he was. That tension stretched between us, sinking into my skin even as I tried to shake it off.

Those eyes were so intense yet intriguing, and if the circumstances had been different, I wouldn’t have minded the chance to get to know him. To be taken out properly, rather than being forced into something—forced to be his wife based on nothing at all.

Ben snickered as he settled back into his seat with an easy air about him, irritatingly nonchalant, as if my very life weren’t in the balance thanks to him. “Barbaric, huh?”

I didn’t even bother answering—not while I was on full alert and doing my best to maintain some sort of conviction. Although, even if he placed the options in front of me, given the resolve in his eyes, I had the feeling he'd already made his mind up.

“Well then,” he began, defusing the tension as he sighed and gestured with his arms as if I left him with no choice. “As a token of mercy, I guess I’ll pick for you.” An almost cruel smirk pulled the corners of his lips back. “I can see how ambitious you are, after all. I’d hate to see that quality go to waste.”

Brows furrowing despite how his words implied he’d rather spare me than kill me, I felt mocked by his words—throwing in my face how my drive and determination led me here. How while good qualities, they forced me to walk a tightrope between life and death.

Bristled, I forced myself to my feet and tried to head toward the door. “There are more than enough people out there. I’ll just yell for help—”

Before I could reach it, Ben was on his feet with an easy swiftness, forcing me back with his taller stature looming over me. I took frightened steps back until my back pressed against the wall, forced to look up at him.

The air was pulled from my lungs at once, and despite myself, I couldn’t look away from him.

“No, you will not,” he muttered, caging my body with his against the wall, face inches from mine with a wicked smirk. “Besides, nobody will hear you, little bird.”

Pinned by not only his body but the intensity of his gaze, I let go of a shaken breath that betrayed the deep fear that pulsed within me. I couldn’t find any words.

---