Page 15 of Bratva Baby

The rest of the ceremony is a blur of fake congratulations and polite smiles. People shuffle around, chatting about partnerships and expansions. Grigor’s men come to greet us, each offering a stiff nod or a few words of blessing. My father’s associates do the same. Cecily appears nearby with her eyes wet to hug me from the side.

“You’ll be okay,” she whispers in my ear.

I give her arm a squeeze. “Look after yourself, yeah?”

She steps away, blinking back tears.

Eventually, Grigor beckons me to his side. “We should say goodbye to your father and gather your things. We’ll leave for my place soon.”

A surge of panic flips my stomach. I guess I always knew that once I married him, I’d have to live under his roof. We never discussed it in detail, but the reality is hitting me hard now. My father’s face is a thundercloud when we approach.

Grigor opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. “I’ll go alone. I need a private word with him.”

Grigor’s gaze moves to me, then to Father. He grants a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll meet you by the car.”

I follow Father into a corner of the house, away from prying ears. He stares at my black dress as though I’ve personally disgraced the entire family line. I guess that was my intention.

“You brought shame on me today,” he snarls. “Is that your idea of a wedding gown?”

I cross my arms, unrepentant. “You’re lucky I bothered showing up at all.”

He exhales, reining in his rage.

I lift my chin. “I’ll be out of your house soon. But one thing before I go…” My voice quivers, though I fight to keep it steady. “Stay away from Cecily. Don’t you dare pawn her off as you did with me. If you even think of using her to broker some sick alliance, I’ll—”

He interrupts with a dry chuckle. “You’ll what? Run to your new husband for help?”

Anger bubbles in my chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Cecily safe.”

“I might listen to that request, but there’s a price.”

Dread coils in my stomach. Of course he wouldn’t give me anything for free. Not even on my wedding day. “What do you want?”

He glances around, confirming no one is within earshot. “Information. Barkov business, his plans, his deals. You’re in the perfect position to spy for me now.”

I may not love my new husband, but betraying Grigor is low on my list of things I want to do. He’s a dangerous man, and it’s not how I want to start my marriage.

Father reads the conflict on my face. “Agree to pass me details on the Barkovs, or watch me sell Cecily to the highest bidder next. If you think I won’t, you’ve learned nothing living under my roof.”

A wave of nausea hits me. My mind races, picturing Cecily forced into a marriage with some violent gangster who might not even bother with the pretense of respect.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

He smirks, and I hate the triumphant gleam in his eyes. “Good. Make sure you don’t disappoint me. You feed me real intel, or the deal is void.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Understood.”

My father tips his head in acknowledgment. “Then go. Your husband is waiting.”

Bile rises in my throat, but I force it down. I spin on my heel and walk away, head pounding with the weight of what I just agreed to. This wedding felt like a nightmare on its own, but now I’ve tethered myself to an even more sinister path: spying on my husband for the man I hate most in the world.

Chapter 7 - Grigor

I slam the door of the SUV the moment we arrive, eager to get Seraphina inside before anyone gawks at her like she’s an exhibit. She spent the entire drive staring out the window, refusing to talk after she and her father said their goodbyes. Now we’re at my place—a sprawling estate I inherited from my family. It’s where she’ll live from now on, whether she likes it or not.

“Come,” I instruct, gesturing for her to follow.

To my utter shock, she does so without replying, though her shoulders are rigid and her posture is as defiant as ever. My men unload her luggage, casting wary looks in her direction. Apparently, word of her little display back at the wedding has reached here already. No one’s quite sure what to expect from the new Mrs. Barkov, who just married their boss looking like a hooker.

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