Page 10 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

He raised his glass in a silent toast before taking a sip. “Now, let's discuss the reason I called you here.”PakhanArtem walked over to his seat, settling in it.

I sipped from my glass and then set it on the table, paying rapt attention with a hand under my chin.

“Oscar Campbell is in trouble,” he said, his gaze holding onto mine. “His company is in quite the mess.”

“Yeah, I heard,” came my reply as I leaned closer. I rested my arms on the table, my interest piqued. “The story spreading like wildfire is that he had some huge losses due to debt and declining market shares. There are also claims of money laundering, embezzlement, and corruption.” I let out a dismissive laugh. “Every company has those anyway.”

“That's not all,” saidPakhanArtem, gently swaying in his swivel chair. “Campbell's company has been struggling for some time now. Their earnings have been…well, substandard, making them a prime target for takeover.”

My brows arched at Mr. Campbell's predicament. He was in a tight spot.

“The company's third-quarter fiscal results revealed a 12% decrease in reported Earnings Before Interest and Taxes,” he added, further elaborating the gravity of the situation.

I rubbed my forehead, whistling softly. “That's quite the hit.”

“It is,” he said, his tone retaining its usual calmness.

I was still in the dark about why he was telling me this, and a faint crease formed between my brows, accentuating the puzzled expression on my face. “Okay, so…?” I drawled, my tone laced with curiosity.

“So, we swoop in like the fucking cavalry and save the day,” he replied, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “We're gonna save Oscar's company from crashing to the ground. TheTarasov Bratva is all he has, anyway.” A calculated glint flickered in his eyes.

Artem had something up his sleeves; I could tell. Thishelphe was willing to render wasn't because he cared, no. Artem was looking at a bigger picture—ways to grow the Bratva business; hence, whatever he had in mind, I was certain it would benefit us greatly.

Oscar was a powerful man: influential and well-connected with friends in high places. The man was better as an ally than a foe, and my ever-wisePakhanunderstood that.

Helping him at this time of his life would mean creating a lasting alliance with a man who had the president's contact on his phone. His connection with the US government would be beneficial to the Bratva's long-term goals.

Artem continued, “We'll provide him with the financial support he so desperately needs. We'll support him and help him get back on his feet.” A mischievous grin twitched on the corner of his lips as he leaned back in his chair. “In return, we'll get his loyalty and his company's influence.”

I nodded, taking another sip from my glass. The potential benefits of this alliance couldn't be more glaring.

“Oscar's partners have all abandoned him, and the Bratva will take advantage of that,” he added, sipping his wine. “He's at his lowest right now—desperate—so he'll give in to our proposal.”

“Indeed,” I muttered, admiring the evil in his genius, the manipulation behind his plan. He was playing this well.

However, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this—especially with the way he had his gaze pinned on me.

“There's just a little catch to solidify this deal,” he added without taking his eyes off me.

I squinted for a moment before my eyes slowly widened at the realization of where this was going.

Holy shit…hell, no,I thought to myself, recalling his statement earlier about me settling down.

Fuck. I knew exactly what he was going to say, and I didn't like it.

“I'm setting you up with Oscar's eldest daughter,” he declared, watching my reaction.

My brows arched in disbelief. “Lorena? That spoiled brat?” My mind darted to my last encounter with her three years ago.

The girl was disrespectful and had a sharp tongue that she needed to brittle. There was no way that I could live with such a girl under the same roof without all hell breaking loose. She was stubborn and a little aggressive—but maybe that had been the alcohol in her system, which she wasn't supposed to have taken in the first place.

Artem chuckled. “She might be a spoiled brat, but she is her father's daughter—smart, brilliant, and not to mention beautiful.”

“The last time I saw her, she was a kid—annoying and naive,” I said, my voice laced with a glimmer of disdain, brows knitting together ever so slightly.

Her disrespect that night still lingered on the fringes of my mind. I hadn't forgiven that yet. And the only reason she got away with that attitude was because she was still a child.

Now, I was expected to marry her?

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