Page 59 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

I felt a pang of guilt gnawing at me as I caught the glint of abandonment in his tone. My eyes trailed him until he was seated beside me on the couch, his gaze locked on mine.

I cleared my throat, my finger pushing my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, well, I've been quite busy these days.”

“These few months, you mean?” he teased, raising an eyebrow, his arm flying across the headrest.

“Okay, I see what you're doing,” I said, chuckling, my eyes leaving him for a fleeting moment.

“I’m just correcting a notion, that's all,” he replied, his gaze still lingering.

He was right. It had been months since we had a decent conversation despite living in the same house and sleeping in the same bed. But how was I going to admit that even though I had my reasons?

I couldn't stand his gaze, and my eyes were fixed on the floor, my hands on my lap.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, his voice sharp and stern.

My heart sank into my stomach, and a heat wave spread across my body. His question was sudden, and it took me aback. What was I supposed to say, the truth? Because sitting next to him right now made me realize just how much I did miss him. But should I admit it, or should I lie? What was the best move to make?

This conversation might lead to the topic I'd been avoiding for months now. I had a few nerve-shattering questions of my own; however, I wasn't sure if this was the right time.

“Silence means yes, you know,” he said with a teasing smirk.

“You'd like for that to be true, wouldn't you?” I looked back at him, pursing my lips to suppress my smile.

“Would that be so bad?” he asked, staring deeply into my eyes.

My mouth was shaped like an “O” as I groped for the right response but found none. He literally left me speechless, puzzled by what he was trying to achieve here.

His gaze never left my face, and in his eyes was a glimmer of passion. My breath hitched in my throat, and I wondered if this was an opportunity to raise the issue that had bothered me for a while now. He seemed like he was ready to listen, and we were already talking about something as sensitive as that.

“Is there anything on your mind?” he asked, his voice smooth and easy.

I swallowed subtly, my heart hammering in my chest. This was it. This was the moment of truth, and it would be foolish to miss it now. What was the worst thing that could happen if I told him how I felt? He was my husband anyway.

Erik's eyes squinted, and he edged closer, the couch crunching at his gentle shift. “Tessa, what is it?” he questioned, a glint of concern creeping into his tone.

I drew a deep breath, feeling his touch on my chin, tilting my head to face him. I locked eyes with him and felt a shiver sprinting down my spine. It was like I had cold feet at the last minute, but my mind was made up. Now was the time for this conversation. It had lingered long enough already.

“What do you feel about me?” I asked, holding his gaze. My breath ceased in anticipation. “Do you feel obligated to loveand care for me?” I added. “Is that what your sudden change is, a sense of obligation?”

His expression softened, his smirk gradually transforming into a bright smile. “You’re afraid, aren't you?”

“Like hell I am.” I sprang to my feet reflexively, my anxiety building. My words broke as I vented out my emotions. “I'm afraid, Erik. You make me afraid. Everything about you is dark, cold, and violent, and sometimes, I ask myself if you're even human at all.”

He just sat there, his head raised to watch me express myself, his gorgeous smile retained.

I pressed on anyway. “And then recently, it's as if a whole new person has emerged—a better version of the ruthless and cruel Bratva boss I married.” The words spilled from my mouth in a frantic rush.

“That's a good thing, isn't it?” he asked, calm and collected.

“Maybe. Maybe not because I have no idea why you're doing it. I don't know if it's because you feel obligated to or because you actually want to.” I paused for a fleeting moment, letting the words sink in before continuing. “Your reason matters a lot, Erik, and I need to know the man I'm choosing to spend an eternity with. We have a baby together now, which means things, and I need to know that we're on the same page.”

He gradually stood up, his impressive height looming over me, yet he bent his head to meet my gaze.

With a racing heart and trembling lips, I dared to ask, “Do you love me, Erik?” My eyes bore into his, searching for answers.

He drew nearer, closing the small distance between us without breaking eye contact.

“I need to know that this isn't one-sided, that I'm not the only one in love here,” I said, my heart racing in my slowly heaving chest, my voice a low whisper.

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