Page 16 of Brutal Bratva King

Knocking on the door, I wait for her response.

“Go away,” she snaps from inside.

“Stop being so difficult. I have clothes for you,” I snarl back at her.

There is nothing but silence from inside the bathroom.

I push the door open and find her standing in the corner with a big towel wrapped around her body.

Guilt washes over me. I don’t want to frighten her. That was never my intention.

Putting the sweatpants and t-shirt on the basin countertop, I sigh. I don’t know what to say.

Turning my back, I walk out of the bathroom, closing the door behind myself.

She can stay in there all night for all I fucking care.

I climb onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, waiting. Because I do care. I don’t actually want her to stay in there all night.

I wait for twenty minutes before I hear the door handle move and the bathroom door swings open.

When she comes out, she looks composed. Her eyes aren’t red from the tears she cried, and her feisty attitude is right back where it always is.

She marches over to her side of the bed, throws the blankets back, climbs beneath them and pulls them over herself.

Lying with her back to me, she doesn’t say a word.

“We need to talk, Anya,” I sigh, annoyed at the childish behavior.

“No, we don’t. I need to sleep.”

I grab her shoulder and roll her to face me. “No, we are going to talk. Right now. This is not going to drag over to tomorrow.”

She huffs loudly and sits up, leaning her back against the headboard as well and keeping the blankets right up over her chest. “Fine. Whatever. What?”

“You are not a prisoner here. You are allowed to see your siblings whenever you want. You can go out as much as you want. But the rule is that you will always—every—single—night—come home and sleep here. Is that clear?”

She nods. “Fine.”

“And I will have an heir, Anya. It might not be now. But it is going to happen.”

I smile as she shifts uncomfortably beneath the blankets.

I do love to watch her squirm.

“I won’t do it, Rodion. I won’t promise that. I amnotgoing to sleep with you. I don’t even want to share your bed. I hate the idea of lying here next to you. I told you, I made it clear that this marriage was for show. A business contract. This was never part of the deal.”

I am getting more frustrated by the second. Her words fill me with anger—and hurt. Why am I so repulsive to her?

I clench my jaw, finally coming to understand the challenge I have taken on by choosing her as a wife.

“Your brothers protected you from everything, didn’t they? You have no idea about the real world. You have been shielded from reality in every aspect. You are a little girl who has no idea what it really means to be a mafia wife. What experience do you have with men anyway? Nothing? They stopped you from learning or feeling anything because any guy who got close to you, they just took care of it—made him go away—I get it now. You wouldn’t even know what to do if you wanted to do it.“

My words come flying from my mouth like fire from a dragon's jaw. I know it’s harsh. But the truth can be brutal, and I know that is exactly what happened to her. Her brothers treated her like a spoiled little princess and took care of all problems that came her way.

“You are anasshole!”she shouts, tears spilling down her cheeks again. I’ve hit a nerve. “I hate you,” she whispers darkly.

In a flash, I roll over, grab her hips and yank her down into the bed, then press my body over hers. “And you married me, princess. So you are going to have to learn to deal with it.”

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