Page 6 of The Bratva's Prisoner Bride

I couldn’t help but consider how it seemed all too fitting.

Chapter 3 - Ivan

Even during the journey from Mexico back to San Diego, I still couldn’t wrap my head around just how different she seemed. The woman I once knew was timid…seemingly passive and far too agreeable for her own good.

That woman had me completely entranced whether I liked it or not, and she had a ridiculous hold on me that I didn’t want to admit to.

As nice as it would be to look back on that time fondly, regardless of how out of character I had been around her, the reminder of her true intentions and actions was enough to completely sour those memories. It all left a bitter taste on my tongue, and I knew it wasn’t something I could just forget.

Regardless of how strangely hopeful she once made me…able to pull me out of my habits and preconceived notions, she lied to me. She led me on, all while being the only one in on her plan—aside from her brother, of course. She shattered that trust entirely, and even if her new spark surprised me, I was still going to snuff it out.

If she wanted to let me down so completely, then it was only fair I did the same in return.

Once Daria was bound and I pulled her off the jet, I kept her closely in tow while we moved across the tarmac. With the horizon glowing orange and red in the distance, dusk began to fall, and soon enough the strip would be completely lit up. But, we weren’t staying long enough to watch it happen.

Instead, an SUV was waiting for us already with the engine running. Sights set on it, I gave her forearm another pull to keep her moving.

“Come along,Zoey,” I muttered, well aware of how petty it sounded, yet no part of me cared. I had every right to be sour, and she would simply have to deal with it.

She stumbled slightly while trying to keep up with my longer strides and scoffed. “It’s Daria…”

Her mumbled reply served as another reminder that there was no hiding her real identity anymore…the secret was out, and there was no point in calling her anything but her real name. And yet, I still enjoyed the way that false name seemed to sting her when it left my mouth.

“My mistake. It’s hard to keep track of these days,” I returned sardonically. “So many names, so little time.”

“I get it…” Daria grumbled with a faint bite to her tone. “You don’t need to be an asshole about it.”

“No? You don’t think so?”

“How much longer are you going to keep throwing it in my face?” She asked, looking both irritated and vaguely remorseful. However, the latter seemed to come from the fact that she had been caught and couldn’t escape the consequences.

My jaw clenched when I felt her pull against me slightly, but I maintained my grip, paused my movements, and looked her in the eyes. “For as long as I feel like it…for the foreseeable future.”

A hint of uncertainty crossed her face, and while she seemed to stew in those words, I yanked her forward again. The slow pace of her steps irked me, since I could feel every second of her resistance, and to keep my cool, I needed her to comply.

Yet, something was enticing about it all…knowing she was afraid of me and wanted to resist. How, regardless of her precarious circumstances, she was still attempting to put up some kind of fight.

It was all fruitless, of course, yet it was strangely entertaining to watch her struggle at no benefit to herself.

I wasn’t one to shy away from conflict, and that worked in my favor.

Regardless of how furious I was with her, watching those irritated and fearful expressions of hers while she processed everything in real time was too good to pass up.

When I didn’t give her any time to consider everything too deeply, Daria fixed her lips into a scowl while she could do nothing but be pulled along the tarmac and steered toward the vehicle.

As hot as my blood was boiling, even I couldn’t deny how the proximity was enough to make my resolve waver by a fraction.

Beneath it all, I had been attracted to her first and foremost. Drawn in by intrigue and curiosity despite myself. And even then, it was nearly impossible to ignore that aspect of it all.

Even with her scowling face. Even with her useless resistance…she was still beautiful, and a part of me hated it.

I hated how that internal struggle reared its ugly head and seemed to demand my attention no matter what I did to try and push it away.

No part of me wanted to even allow her to have that kind of satisfaction, yet it seemed out of my hands.

And despite that, I still struggled while I held her arm and could feel the warmth of her skin against mine. The unspoken temptation of it had my nerves standing on end, and while I didn't want to give it too much thought, I couldn't help it.

There was just something about her, regardless of how infuriating that was.

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