Page 47 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

Bryce Foster, the idiot who had broken my heart more times than I could count. He was tall and lanky, with beautiful blue eyes and hazel-brown hair. He was charming in every way, blessed with a silver tongue that could get him out of any situation.

He was a smooth talker, easy on the eyes, and always seemed to draw unwanted attention to himself. As Mister Popular, he loved being in the spotlight, loved the noise and attention he received from other girls. One could say he was the exact opposite of me.

I used to fool myself into thinking our differences were the reason we were so perfect for each other—the ideal couple. Unlike terms, they say, attract, and that saying was the reason I held on to a broken relationship for so long.

I thought he loved me, and despite all of his flaws—his insecurities, pride, and ability to seamlessly flirt without remorse—I couldn't find it in me to let go.

Bryce was my first love and wanted to be my first—the one to take away my virginity, my innocence. However, I didn't give in to his persuasion, even though he’d tried many times.

Bryce just couldn't understand that I didn't want to have sex until my wedding night, and that always made us quarrel.

We'd fight over this and the silliest of things, but we'd always make up and get back together.

We’d started dating back in high school, and as we drew close to graduation, rumors started flying around that Bryce was cheating on me. Of course, I was too blind to see the signs and so lovestruck that I believed his words when he denied the “allegations” against him.

Carol, Jade, and Cassie, the three most attractive girls in school who thought the world revolved around them, had once told me that they had a foursome with Bryce. Again, when confronted about this, Bryce denied it.

It was almost like everyone else could see him as the liar and cheater that he was—everyone else but me.

I’d gotten tired of his behavior. He'd say he had nothing with other girls, but his attitude toward them would prove otherwise. I realized it was pointless talking to him about how his actions were hurting me. So, I ended things and moved on.

He, on the other hand, hadn’t.

Even after I lost his number, he’d still reached out to me by whatever means he could. He'd send flowers, romantic texts, apology letters—lots of them.

He’d gone as far as applying to the same college as me, and after we both got in, he didn't relent. Bryce chased me down, trying so hard to prove himself and show me he was a changed person.

This entire time, he’d still never admitted to sleeping around with those girls. He claimed his faults were the other bad character traits I couldn't put up with.

He’d seemed very genuine, and when I was convinced he truly loved me, I accepted him back.

We’d dated again in college for about two semesters, and everything looked like it was fine until I dropped by his place unannounced one day.

I pushed the door open and walked into the living room, shedding my jacket. “Bryce!” I called, draping it over the couch. “Babe?”

No response.

The TV was turned on, and a movie was playing—a scene from our favorite show. There were two bags of popcorn on the coffee table, both halfway through.

That was strange. Did he have someone over?

“Babe!” I called again, my heels clicking against the floor.

My hands flew to my hair, fingers deftly clipping it atop my head as I ascended the stairs. “Babe?”

Still no response.

Loud music boomed through the hallway as I approached his room. But there was something else beneath the melody—a sharp, pleasured cry that pierced the air.

My brows knitted, accentuating the puzzled look on my face. The closer I drew to his room, the clearer the unmistakable moan punctured the melody.

Cold sweat dampened my skin, and my heart pounded hard in my chest. My legs turned to jelly—too weak to carry my weight—as a sudden heat swelled up within me.

I felt my tear glands charging up, stinging my eyes as I dared to grab the door handle. I swallowed hard against the dryness in my throat and twisted the handle. The door gave a soft creak and opened, revealing the sight that would haunt me for a very long time.

My eyes widened in shock, breath catching in my throat as I stood transfixed, rooted to the spot by the entrance. I was glued to the scene unfolding before me, unable to tear my gaze away.

There he was, lying on his back, naked on the bed, with a girl straddling him. She had her face thrown up in pleasure, hands in her long auburn hair as she ground over his groin.

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