Page 16 of The Bratva's Prisoner Bride

Her words came out, muttered. "Why did I have the feeling you'd say that?"

I pulled another sip from my coffee before setting it down and steepling my fingers on the edge of the table. "Am I that predictable?"

Looking vaguely irritated again, she shook her head and glanced away at something, or nothing, in the yard. "It seems so."

"So you think you have me all figured out then," I returned, lifting an accusatory brow at her.

She gave me a cautious look. "Hardly."

At that, I grinned and leaned back again. "That's right...you don't know the first thing about me or what I'm really capable of."

While she digested the implications of my claims, another hint of worry moved through her eyes, seemingly running through every possibility in her mind.

I looked her over, discreetly admiring what I saw. I didn't want her to know that, of course. Not while I needed her to remain defenseless against me. I didn't need her to think she could somehow sway me just because I found her attractive. The less advantage she had, the better.

It was a shame, too. The things I'd do to her—for her—if she hadn't participated in that charade.

After a moment, as if growing tired of it all, Daria's brows pinched together while she looked at me pointedly. "You speak a lot of threats, yet you haven't killed me yet. So what is this all for, then?"

Somewhat surprised by her words, I took a moment to articulate myself. I tilted my head and peered at her. "Trust me...the thought crossed my mind, but I don't plan on killing you. Not when I have something better prepared. Something that'll make you wish I chose something quick and painless."

Another flicker of pain scuttled through her features while she held my gaze. With a breath, she mumbled, "At least tell me what this plan is."

Not looking away from her for a moment, I considered her request, then chuckled. Of course, she'd want to know. I had left her mostly in the dark up to that moment, and she had no idea what I had in store for her.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

She scowled at me with her arms crossed over her chest. "You took me from Mexico in restraints, hauled me back here to your home, and locked me in a bedroom. Do you expect me to not have any questions?"

"Oh, I'm sure you have plenty, but I'm not interested in hearing them."

It was clear from the fire in her eyes that I was pushing every one of her buttons, and those reactions only made me want to continue.

"You're an asshole."

"If you're aiming to hurt my feelings, you'll need to try much harder than that," I returned with a faint grin.

Even if she pissed me off to no end, she was amusing. Getting under her skin was more fun than I anticipated it would be.

I could see in her brown eyes how badly she wanted to lose her cool...how badly she either wanted to slap me or run off. Likely both.

Still, she somehow managed to hold her tongue.

As much as I wanted to drag that torture out a bit longer to leave her guessing, I figured there would be no better time to let it slip. She'd find out eventually, anyway.

I looked her over from top to bottom, then grinned faintly to myself. "I'd get comfortable if I were you. You're not going anywhere anytime soon."

When the confusion stitched into her features further in silent question, I hummed my satisfaction at the way she seemed to cling to my every word.

"Not since you're going to be my wife."

To stoke that absolute pleasure it brought me to bask in her misery, I watched all the while her entire world came crashing down around her.

That was exactly what I wanted.

Chapter 8 - Daria

---