Page 11 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

After cataloging a number of different cities and considering the supply and demand problem, I decided to settle for New York. The city, with its thriving fashion industry and network of great designers, was the perfect choice.

Now, down to step three, the most important aspect of my plan. I had not a single penny to my name, no capital to start my business, and as independent as I wanted to be, I knew I couldn't do anything without my father's permission.

For this to be a success, I needed my dad's approval and financial support. Therefore, I wouldn't begin with the complaints always being treated like a last resort. That would be unwise. Instead, I'd tender my proposal and business idea.

“Yeah, that's a lot better,” I muttered under my breath, nodding my head in affirmation. I caught my reflection in the mirror and heaved a sigh, bracing myself for the challenge that lay ahead.

I strolled out of the room and headed straight to Dad's study, my heart racing with anticipation. How could something so simple be so difficult at the same time?

Outside his door, I paused, my hand suspended in the air for a moment before I knocked. My gaze fell on the hinges, and I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Soft light from the room filtered through the opening.

I could hear Dad and Liam talking, but their voices were low and hushed, so I couldn't make out what they were saying. Gently, I pushed the door open, my gaze settling on Dad, nestled in his armchair, his face pale and weary.

Liam, who was seated in the visitor's chair, turned to face me, his eyes mirroring the forlorn expression he wore.

The air was electric with tension, and my heart skipped a beat as I wondered why the long faces. Did I interrupt something? Was there someone else behind me, or was I the one they were looking at like that? I shot a quick glance toward the door and then back at them.

My eyes squinted ever so slightly, and my feet sank soundlessly against the fine wooden floor as I glided into the study. The smell of aged paper and the harsh scent of whiskey wafted through the air, blending with the tension hovering around me.

Dad's laptop was flipped open on his rich mahogany table; a bottle of whiskey and two half-filled glasses towered beside it.

Neither of them took their eyes off me, and the sudden silence in the room was both awkward and deafening at the same time.

“Okay…” I drawled lazily, halting in front of Dad's desk, holding his gaze. “What's going on here?” I asked, my voice laced with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

As inquisitive as I was at the moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that I might not want to get the answer to my question. Besides, ignorance was bliss.

“You, uh….” Liam cleared his throat, gesturing at the vacant chair next to him. “You might wanna sit down.”

My breath ceased for a moment, watching my brother and Dad exchange hidden glances.Oh, no, this is not going to be good, I thought, my heartbeat escalating immediately.

I took a seat, my eyes pinned on my father. “This is weird, and I'm not sure what's going on, but just so you know, I have an important announcement to make.”

“As do I,” he replied, the solemnity in his voice sending shivers down my spine. Dad edged closer, his elbows on the table. “Tessa, we need to talk.”

I swallowed, realizing the gravity of the situation. It was worse than I thought, and I could almost hear the sound of my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. This suspense was killing me, especially because I had no clue what the hell was happening.

“Should I be worried?” I asked, my eyes narrowing, a hint of anxiety creeping into my tone.

“You're aware of the conflict between our organization and the Tarasov Bratva?” he asked, his words more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I replied, satisfying his expectation. “But what has that got to do with anything?”

He stole another glance at my brother before continuing to explain. “There's so much bloodshed, and it has impacted the business and our family's survival.”

I tilted my head to the side, curious as to where he was going with this, but he left me hanging, his pause stretching out like an eternity.

Just get to the bloody point already!I snapped internally, but I maintained my composure on the outside.

Dad's voice trailed off, his words hanging like a scepter in the air. “However, the Bratva leaders have reached out to us, and they're proposing an alliance….” He cleared his throat, looked me dead in the eyes, and blurted out, “One that would be sealed by marriage.”

My brows arched in disbelief, my heart racing in my chest, but before I could speak, I was interrupted.

“Liam will be engaged to Artem Tarasov's niece, Zoya,” he added.

I basked in the fleeting moment of relief, thinking I had dodged a bullet, but just as I was about to let out a subtle sigh, my anxiety returned with double the intensity.

Dad's announcement cut deeper than a bloody knife when he said, “You, on the other hand, will get married to Erik Tarasov as soon as possible”

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