Page 12 of The Bratva's Knocked-Up Bride

He pauses, almost as if to think before he says:

“You’re going to marry me.”

The words hung heavy in the air between us, and my heart sank. “Marry you?” I repeated incredulously. The shock smacks me like a brick to the face, and then I can’t help but laugh. “What are you talking about? You can’t be serious!”

“Calm down,” Roman says, but his words only anger me more. “My family and I have dealt with these kinds of men all our lives. If you marry me and share my last name, it would give me more leverage to protect you. I can ensure your safety thatway. Meanwhile, I can use my resources to find your friend.” Another shrug. “We already found their faces in less than a day. With that, you can trust me to handle the rest.”

For a minute, I just stare at him. I’m completely numb; I can’t feel a thing, but I know that my jaw is probably on the floor in shock.

“You’ll share my last name, and it’ll give me leverage, as well as help me guarantee your life,” Roman continues, putting his glass and plate back on the counter. “Trust me, you’ll quickly learn to love it. I’ll take care of you.” His gaze sweeps me up and down, and I have to physically restrain myself from punching him.

I feel breathless and angry. “Are you… out of your fucking mind?” I yell, daring to take a step closer to him. “Fuck this. Fuck you! I’m not marrying you. I’m leaving and going to the cops. You’ll have to kill me if you want to stop me.”

With all said, I turn and make way for the door. I don’t feel his threatening presence close behind, nor the sound of his footsteps, and, for a second, I’m filled with hope.

Just as I’m about to reach the elevator door, he calls out to me.

“Sure, if you don’t want to see Riley ever again.”

Dread takes over once more as I turn around slowly to face him. “What?”

Roman approaches me slowly as if to get under my skin, leaving a larger distance between us this time. “My family and I aren’t going to share the camera recordings with anyone. We will find out the names of these men and where they are and take care of them our way. That’s how we handle… these kind of men.” He pauses for a few moments, then shrugs. “Riley, on theother hand… There’s really no reason to save her. She’s nothing to us, just collateral damage.”

I feel like I’m about to collapse at this point. It takes me what feels like forever to gather my thoughts. “What… Wh-what kind of men are they?” I finally croak what feels like minutes later, trying to clarify the situation.

“The kind that the cops can’t do anything about,” Roman answers, brows furrowing.

I feel as if my body is going to shut down. “And what about you?” I can’t help but ask. “Does the same apply to you? Your family?”

Roman’s eyes darken, and he doesn’t answer, but the look on his face is an answer enough. “I know this sounds insane. I understand that everything I’m saying couldn’t be more of the opposite of what you want,” he says in what I can only assume is his best attempt at a soothing voice. “But it’s the best option we have right now. You become mine, and I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let anything happen to what’s mine. I promise.”

“You’re asking me to throw away my life for a situation I didn’t ask for. I don’t evenknowyou!” I argue weakly. I feel my chest tighten with anger and confusion. I stare into his dark eyes, searching for any hint of deception. But all I saw was determination—an intensity that made my heart race. “What about Riley?” I demanded, my voice trembling. “You say you can guarantee my safety. What about hers? What will happen to her if I agree to this? How can you guarantee they won’t kill her right now? Hurt her?”

“I’ll do everything I can to get her back. But I need you to trust me,” he insisted, his voice unwavering.

Trust him? The thought was almostlaughable. This man I met last night and exchanged only a few words with has swept me away from everything I knew and thrown me into a world of danger and uncertainty.

But beneath the anger, a flicker of fear ignited. What if he was right? What if the cops really couldn’t do anything?

What if agreeing to his insane proposal was the only way to keep Riley and me safe?

“Gwen,” he said softly, breaking through my thoughts. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you have no other options. I need your cooperation.”

The weight of the decision pressed heavily on my chest, and guilt gnawed at me. Could I really give up my old life? Would agreeing to this make me a part of his world?

“I’ll think about it,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” he replied, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “That’s all I ask for now.”

As I turned away, my mind swirling with conflicting emotions, I knew this was just the beginning. Whatever decision I made next would change everything, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was spiraling into a darkness I hadn’t yet begun to comprehend.

The silence in the penthouse was palpable now, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Roman turned to finish his food but first slid a plate over to me. I walked back towards the counter and looked down at the buttery toast and scrambled eggs. But the thought of eating made me sick—the thought of everything made me sick.

I turned my back to Roman, feeling the weight of his gaze on me as I paced the sleek marble floor. My thoughts raced, tangled in a web of confusion and anger. I felt like I was trapped in a twisted fairytale, the kind where the heroine had to choose between a life she knew and an uncertain future laden with danger. And, stupidly, she chose a life of danger.

“Gwen,” Roman’s voice cut through the haze, coaxing me to face him. I hesitate at first, but when quiet washes over, I know he’ll only continue once I turn back to him. Reluctantly, I do. “I know this is hard. But I need you to understand how serious this is. Those men from last night won’t stop until they get what they want. It’s clear they think you’re my weakness, Riley too, and they’re going to keep coming at us.”

His words sank in, and the gravity of the situation settled deeper and deeper in my gut. I stopped pacing and crossed my arms over my chest, my defenses rising again. “What if I refuse?” I asked. I knew the question was futile, but I was desperate. I asked anyway. “What if I don’t want anything to do with your plans?”

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