Page 26 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

As I turned around to leave, I accidentally bumped into a huge figure, and our bodies jolted from the impact.

“Sorry. I didn't see you there,” said a familiar voice, thick and husky.

I raised my head and met his gaze, a smile playing on his lips.

“Good evening, Tessa,” Connor greeted me warmly, his calm demeanor hinting that he'd intentionally bumped into me.

“It's Mrs. Tarasov now,” I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.

The intensity of my gaze caused his smile to falter, gradually fading away.

“That's what you all wanted, isn't it?” I continued, feeling my frustrations returning. “You, my dad, my mom, and my brother. You all decided to sell me off, and for what? The good of the family?”

A glint of guilt flashed across his face as he stepped forward. “It's notlikethat, Tessa,” he said, his tone calm but defensive.

“Then how is it, Connor, hmm?” I demanded, my shoulders jerked in question. “Tell me, I'm listening.”

He went silent for a moment, unable to defend himself. I'd been pissed off at him for never even trying to intervene when the negotiations were being made.

“You always stood up for me, Connor, even when no one else would. But the one time I needed you to do that the most, you didn't,” I spat, my voice dripping with emotion, my heart aching at his nonchalance, his betrayal. “Why didn't you stop them? Why did you just sit back and let them sell me off to save the family business—you know my dad listens. You could've talked him out of it.”

I'd kept this inside for so long, but the reason for my frustration was because he’d broken my heart. I felt betrayed by Connor's silence about the matter and the fact that I'd never get to be with him.

“It pains me, too, Tessa,” he confessed, reaching out to hold my hand—a gesture he'd never done before. “But we didn't have a choice. There was no other way.” He drew closer, his eyes never leaving mine and his expression soft. “My loyalty is first to your family—to the prosperity of the Irish.” He paused, as if letting his words sink in. “If there was another way out of our problem, I swear to you, I never would have let this happen.”

My chest heaved slowly, my frustration gradually dissipating as he pulled me to himself. The hug was brief, and his arms only hovered around my body, never really touching my skin. He was cautious of his actions, and I respected that. My husband, though…? Not so much.

“Get your hands off my wife.” Erik's voice, laced with disdain and venom, cut through the air like a bloody knife.

I pulled away from Connor, my heart racing in my chest. Not because I’d done something wrong but because my husband seemed upset.

Erik stepped forward, his brows furrowing and creasing his forehead. His eyes were blazing red, and a scary scowl settled on his face. His intense gaze shifted across Connor and me, and his fingers clenched into fists.

Despite the fear that stole my breath, I had to summon the courage not to falter at his intimidating glare.

He drew closer to Connor, jaw tightening, and his gaze was intense enough to make an ordinary man shit their pants. But Conner neither moved nor flinched.

Erik began, his voice cold and deadly, “If you ever…everhold my wife like that again, they'll never find your body. Do you understand?”

His words were spoken with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers down my own core.

Connor's face contorted into a frown, his jaw clenching at the threat. But he knew better than to engage, no matter how embarrassed he felt.

“Come on. We're leaving,” Erik said to me without taking his eyes off Conor.

His tone had left no room for debate, and the next thing I knew, he grabbed my wrist, leading me to the car.

I sat in silence, riding shotgun as he drove us home. His eyes were fixed on the road, and his fury was still simmering beneath the surface. For the past ten minutes, the only sound that filled the car's cabin was the soft hum of the engine.

Then, he broke the silence, his voice low and malicious. “Do you like him—Connor Donnelly?”

I steeled myself, tightening my jaw as I glanced in his direction. “I used to, so what?” was my response, laced with a hint of arrogance. “I had a life before you came along and ruined everything for me,” I dared to blurt out, immediately regretting my words.

Without turning to look at me, he gritted his teeth, his grip tightening around the steering wheel as his foot slammed on the accelerator.

The force pressed my back against the seat, and my hand reached out to the dashboard for support. My bodystiffened, and my heart raced as fast as the speeding car, whose speedometer needle was climbing into triple digits.

“Erik, slow down,” I muttered, cold sweat dampening my forehead.

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