Page 55 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

What a haughty, narcissistic prick!

I'd rather stay back, sulking in bed all night as I'd been doing all day, than go out with that self–absorbed, arrogant man. He knew his violent outburst had hurt my feelings, yet he had the audacity to command my presence.

Was he really that cold that he didn't realize the damage his reaction had done to me?

Was this the same man that I’d been starting to grow affection for?

I cupped my face in my palms, resisting the rising urge to at least step out.

No, I won't go out with him. Not with that tone, I reminded myself, trying to silence that voice in my head, but it wouldn't quiet.

The more I tried to shove it to the back of my mind, the more it rang loudly.

You’ve been in here all day, doing nothing. Going out would do you some good.

I covered my face with a pillow, biting into it as I struggled to come up with reasons why I should just stay home. Unfortunately, none popped into my head. The voice was right; going out and mingling with other people would help my mental state.

Besides, I could use some fresh air. Going out with him wouldn't be out of fear; rather, it would be because I prioritized my peace of mind. These thoughts had been running through my mind all day, threatening to drive me insane. I needed a break from them.

I exhaled sharply, massaging my temples. My eyes darted toward the phone laying carelessly under the sheets. I reachedout for it, hit the side button, and the screen came alive. It was almost 6 P.M. I still had a couple of hours left.

A silly thought flashed in my head as though a light bulb was lit, and my lips twitched into a smirk.

Alexei Tarasov might be an arrogant devil, but he was also a man—a man who admired and had eyes for good stuff. I, on the other hand, was a woman blessed with the kind of good stuff that a man like him wouldn't be able to resist.

My smile grew more mischievous as I made up my mind to go out there and have a good time instead of wallowing in self–pity.

I got out of bed feeling refreshed, my bare feet striding across the cold marble floor while I glided over to the wardrobe. My eyes roamed here and there, a finger resting on my chin as I contemplated what to wear. I needed to look outstanding—irresistible, hot as hell.

The goal was to make him realize the beauty of the woman he treated so badly. That I was his wife didn't mean that other men wouldn't admire what they'd see when I stepped out. I wasn't sure if he was a jealous man, but I was about to find out.

I selected the sexiest and most sleek gown in my collection—in crimson red—and the finest, most expensive heels, a pair of black stilettos. Then, I strolled back to the bed. There, I dropped the heels at the base and draped the gown over the bed.

My plan to draw as much attention as I could to myself was set in motion. I'd never been the type that loved the spotlight, but this was the easiest way to get back at my husband. I needed to make him realize the kind of woman he had as a wife—the kind that turned heads wherever she went.

If things went according to plan, Alexei would try to be possessive once he realized how much attention I was receiving from other men. It'd piss him off a little, and he'd subconsciouslyhold me close. He'd want me again, considering we hadn't been together since our wedding night.

And then, I'd choose what to do next: give in or make him suffer. But I'd most likely go for the latter.

This thought of getting under his skin gladdened my heart, and my face lit up with a smile as I glided over to the bathroom to get all cleaned up.

I took my time when bathing, and once I was done, I stepped out with a white towel wrapped around my torso. In front of the mirror, I dried my hair, wiped my glistening skin, and creamed my body.

Strolling back to the bed, I picked up the gown and slipped into it, the soft fabric hugging me in the right places. I strapped my heels on and checked myself out in the full-length mirror, admiring the beautiful woman looking back at me.

The spaghetti-strapped, crimson-red gown had a long, sinuous slit up the side that revealed a tantalizing glimpse of my alluring thigh—not too much, but enough to tease. This should do.

I stood a few inches taller, thanks to the heels fitted perfectly on my feet, adding a touch of elegance to my overall look.

My lips curled into a smile.

Almost done.

I styled my hair in loose, effortless waves that cascaded down my back like a waterfall, with a few strategically placed strands framing my face. For my makeup, I opted for something light and natural that blended with my skin tone, enhancing my features without overpowering them.

My focus drifted to my lips, and I chose a deep, bold red shade that complemented the crimson of my gown. With a fluid and precise move, I outlined my lips with a lip liner, cautiously tracing the curve of my mouth.

Once done, I straightened, pressing my lips together, feeling the smooth, creamy texture of the lipstick. In the mirror, my eyes crinkled at the corners, my face lighting up with a beaming smile.

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