Page 28 of Forced Bratva Hostage

No. I couldn't be jealous. I wasn't jealous. Why would I be?

Wait. Why were they leading me to his study? He was obviously working and shouldn't be disturbed.

This uncertainty about everything was killing me, and I hated the feeling of being kept in the dark.

We halted outside his study, and both women looked at me with a smile before Martha knocked twice and gave the door a gentle push.

It creaked open, revealing the cozy interior and the soft classical music playing in the background.

As I stepped inside, my eyes darted across the opulent setting of the study, where mahogany paneling, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and warm golden lighting created a simple yet fascinating setting. The cozy space exuded luxury and style—simple but classy.

By the window, Afanasy stood poised, a hand dipped in his pocket as he looked through the blinds, his back against the entrance.

Martha stepped forward and cleared her throat conspicuously.

With a graceful move, he swiveled, his eyes locking with mine. It was as if my heart stopped for a minute, like he'd literally stolen my breath away.

I'd never seen him as handsome and dashing as he was today. His dirty blond hair was neatly styled, his piercing green eyes sparkling with mischief as his lips curled into his signature smirk. Ironically, today, that smirk of his that often annoyed me looked rather charming and alluring.

As he stood tall, his athletic build was palpable beneath the sleek lines of an impeccably tailored charcoal gray suit that accentuated his muscular physique and broad shoulders.

“Thank you, Martha,” he said to the maid, his voice soft and smooth. “You may go now.”

She nodded and looked at me with that contiguous smile of hers before heading out with Mary.

As the door shut behind me, signaling their exit, I felt my heart resume racing as he slowly glided over to me.

I struggled to steady my heartbeat, to gain control of my breathing, but the closer he drew, the more I lost my composure. My weight shifted from one foot to the other, my face dropping to the ground to avoid his unwavering gaze.

“You look amazing,” he said, halting in front of me.

His cologne filled the air around me.

I felt my cheeks flush at his remark, and I wondered if he’d truly just given me a compliment. Or didn't I hear him correctly? I managed to jerk my head and meet his eyes, as if searching for validation. “Thanks.” The word was above a whisper.

There was a glint in his eyes that revealed he was up to something. But what was it?

“What…what's going on, Afanasy?” I stuttered, gazing into his eyes. “Why's everyone suddenly nice to me? Why am I all dressed up?”

“Because, my dear Wren,” he said, his voice tinged with charm and wit, “we're celebrating your engagement.”

I pushed my head back, eyes narrowing. “I'm sorry…we're celebrating what, now?” My brows arched, and my gaze remained unwavering.

He let out a soft sigh and withdrew a finger from his pocket. “I should've led with this; your debt has been forgiven.” He took my hand, his eyes fixed on me.

Cold sweat dampened my forehead, my heart pounding in my chest as I stared at him with widened eyes. My body tensed, my hands shaking and legs trembling beneath me. The joy of my debt being pardoned was overshadowed by the fear and anxiety of being engaged to him.

What exactly was going on?

As he slipped the ring into my finger, a voice in my head screamed at me to run. But where would I run to?

I felt my eyes misting as a number of thoughts overlapped in my mind, threatening to rip it apart. I’d yet to come to terms with what was happening, and it all felt like a bad dream.

“You're my fiancée now, and because of that, you no longer owe the Bratva a dime,” he said, his eyes crinkling mysteriously at the corners.

I shook my head, a tear rolling down my cheek. “No,” I muttered, stumbling backward.

Afanasy grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to himself, my front side against his as I squirmed subtly. His arm wrapped my slender waist, and with his fingers, he jerked my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes.

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