Page 11 of Bratva Baby

Grigor trails behind the others, then looks back at me. “Seraphina. Will you walk with me instead of joining them?”

I blink, torn between wanting to refuse and wanting to get away from my father. “Fine,” I mutter. “But I’m not doing this to indulge you.”

He makes a subtle gesture toward the wide doors that lead out to the garden. I rise and head outside with my arms folded. If my father sees me out here with him, maybe he’ll assume things are going well. Perfect. Let him believe that. I have my own plan in mind.

The garden is silent except for the distant footsteps of guards circling the grounds. I keep pace a few steps ahead of Grigor, ignoring the warm glow of lanterns that dot the path.

“Why are you really here?” I ask, stopping near a row of trimmed hedges. “You don’t seem the type to accept a forced marriage. Or is it normal for the Barkov Bratva to take brides from men like my father?”

“I agreed to meet. That doesn’t mean I agreed to anything else.”

A spark of hope flares in me. “You can still back out, right?”

He rubs a hand over his jaw, mulling over his answer. “It’s complicated. But I’m not blind to the fact that he’s using you as a chess piece.”

My mind races. If he’s unsure, I can push him further away. That’s exactly what I need to do. I recall how Bratva men often prize certain qualities in a woman: loyalty, dignity, and awillingness to be obedient. If I show him I’m the opposite of all that, maybe he’ll reject the proposal outright.

I drop my voice, adopting a tone of sultry disinterest. “Well, if you’re looking for some perfect little mafia princess, you’ll be disappointed. I have no intention of playing house with a criminal.”

He levels me with a dark stare. “You think I’m searching for domesticated bliss? This would be about politics, power, and maintaining control.”

I feign a lazy smile, letting my hair fall over one shoulder. “And what if I’m a terrible ally who undermines your every move?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his throat. “Then I’d have to deal with you. One way or another.”

I flutter my eyelashes and drag my fingertips from his chest, stopping just above his waistline. “Or you could break it off right now. Save us both the headache.”

He doesn’t move. “Is that what you want?”

I let my lips curl into a suggestive grin. Time to lay it on thick. “Don’t sound so disappointed. You and I could… still have a little bit of fun. Enjoy the fun parts without all that nasty marriage business.”

His brows knit. “Why would you—”

I place a hand on his shoulder, sliding it along the lapel of his jacket in a movement I hope looks slinky. Bratva men hate women who are too easy. Nothing respectable about a woman who offers herself so soon, with no sense of pride or dignity. I almost cringe at how fake and unnatural this all is.

But then, understanding dawns in his eyes. I see it, clear as day: he knows what I’m trying to do. He knows I’mdeliberately making myself appear unworthy of the alliance. He snatches my wrist before my hand can travel any farther south.

Then, he does the last thing I expect: he leans closer. So close, I can see the gold flecks in his irises.

His breath tickles my ear. His voice is low, husky, and utterly disarming. “You’ll have to do better than this, Seraphina.”

My confidence teeters. I force a laugh. “You’re underestimating how far I’m willing to go.”

He shakes his head, still holding my wrist in his strong, rough grip. The contact sends a thrill down my spine, and it only gets worse when he moves his mouth closer, so his lips are practically grazing my skin. “You know, I was having second thoughts for a minute there, but now, I think this might be exactly the kind of challenge I enjoy. You’re going to make a lovely bride, Seraphina. And I can’t wait until our wedding night.”

A wave of dread rushes through me. This is not how I wanted it to go.

Chapter 5 - Grigor

I grit my teeth as soon as Aleksei waves me over to his desk. He’s been waiting there with his usual composed expression. Normally, I’d brace for another long lecture about leadership or some new threat looming on the streets, but today feels different. The moment I approach, my brother gets straight to the point.

“You don’t have to marry her. If you want out of this arrangement, we’ll deal with Evan Thorne some other way.”

I rub a hand over my jaw. “We need this alliance”

He exhales, sliding a file across the desk. “We have other options. We can secure a new partner in one of the neighboring territories. Evan isn’t indispensable. If you don’t want Seraphina, say the word. Nobody will think any less of you.”

It’s the opening I told myself I wanted: a chance to walk away from this complicated marriage. Yet the thought of leaving her with that vicious father of hers makes my blood stir. I keep thinking about the last time I saw her, the way she threw insults at me during dinner—insults meant to drive me off. Instead of repelling me, it drew me in.

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