Page 18 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

I lifted my eyes and met hers, a warm grin spreading across my face. “I'm fine. Thank you.”

“And you, sir?” Her gaze settled on Alexei.

“A bottle of sparkling water will do,” he chimed without taking his eyes off me.

“Okay, that'll be $4.50,” she replied, retaining her smile; already, there was a faint flush of pink on her cheeks.

He reached for his wallet, withdrew a $10 bill, and handed it to her. This time, his gaze met hers. “Keep the change.”

Her smile broadened, with a glaring blush that made me sick in my stomach. Us women were the reason men like him were of the notion that they could have whomever they wanted.

As she dematerialized, her footsteps retreating, my brows rose at him. “Sparkling water? Really?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his tone low and husky. “I'm driving. Besides, I'll need something natural to wash down your arrogance.”

My brows furrowed, forming faint creases between them.

The barista returned with her friendly smile, gently setting his order on the table. “Here you go.” She straightened, her gaze falling on him. “Do enjoy your drink. And let me know if you need anything else.”

I wasn't sure whether she was flirting or whether this was just a professional courtesy—not that I cared anyway.

She smiled at him one more time before leaving us alone.

Alexei twisted the cap off the water bottle and took a sip. “So, why'd you want to meet up?” He placed his elbows on the table, watching me like a hawk.

“I wanted to talk about the elephant in the room,” I said, looking into his eyes.

“Which is?” he asked, feigning ignorance, his expression soft but stern at the same time.

I shut my eyes for a moment, getting a grip of myself. I hated the fact that he was toiling with me. If I showed him that his actions were getting to me, he'd use it against me. I needed to play it cool.

“The arranged marriage,” I answered, keeping a straight face and still maintaining eye contact.

His lips curled into a sly grin. “What about it?”

Alexei was turning the table, making himself the hunter and me the hunted.

Oh, no, Mister. This is not how this is supposed to go down,I thought to myself.

His calmness and that stupid smirk on his face were infuriating me, and I had a feeling that was what he wanted. He was trying to get under my skin, but I wouldn't let him.

“I know that this marriage is just as unexpected for you as it is for me—”

“What makes you so sure?” he cut me off, leaning back in his chair.

I heaved a sigh, struggling to maintain my composure. I couldn't afford to lose control right now. He'd love that. And I'd hate it.

“Maybe I'm not so sure,” I said, a faint scowl creeping into my face as I edged closer, elbows on the table. “But tell me this: Do you really want this marriage?” My gaze bore into his. “You don't have to pretend with me. It's the two of us; no need to lie to each other.”

God, I hated that smirk. It was making my blood boil. However, I kept a straight face even though I was cursing him on the inside.

He watched me in silence, eyes narrowing as his fingers drummed against the table. His gaze wouldn't leave mine, and I swore that he was studying me, searching for signs of weakness. The worst that could happen to me was Alexei figuring me out. If he read me like a book, he'd have an edge over me, and I'd be a goner.

“Do you really want this marriage, Alexei?” I repeated, hoping to get a negative response.

If his answer was ‘no,’ then I'd have solved more than 90% of our problems, and we'd cook up a plan to escape this impending life of torment.

Alexei looked me dead in the eyes and leaned forward, mirroring my serious expression as he whispered, “Yes, I do.”

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