Page 12 of The Bratva's Virgin Bride

“Yes?” I ask. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I see so, I need you to come over here and sign this,” Manny says.

I get up and go to the desk, leaning over it. I take the pen and sign the paperwork where he points.

“Congratulations. You are now Riley Milov.”

“Okay,” I say quietly. Not sure what else to say. I hug myself and my hair falls into my eyes. Manny glances at me and hesitates.

“Are you sure you want me to file this paperwork?” he asks quietly.

I look at Viktor, who nods, then I nod at Manny. “Yes, this is the best solution that we have.”

Manny nods and puts the paperwork in his briefcase. “You're free to go. By morning, you'll be officially married and I'll send your marriage license over.”

We leave his office, and Viktor hits the button on the elevator. “See, no fuss, no harm.”

“Did I have to change my name?”

“The name is what has the power,” Viktor explains. He lets me step onto the elevator first. I shake slightly.

“Are you cold?” he asks. “You can take my jacket in the car.”

“I'm okay,” I say quietly. But I'm not. I'm not okay. I just got married to a mobster who has gang ties. I got married with no one present, no wedding dress, no cake and no reception. Not even a priest. I had to do this to keep myself safe and it feels surreal.

We walk to the car, and Viktor opens the door for me. “Put the jacket on, anyway. You will get cold.”

I pick the jacket up from the back seat and slide it on before I get into the car and buckle up. I wait for Viktor with bated breath. I feel like we can be attacked at any minute, as though someone is following us right now.

We join traffic again and Viktor turns on the radio. He raises the volume on the news and drums his fingers against the steering wheel while we wait for the traffic light to change to green. I want to ask him a million questions, but I feel like I'm going to cry if I do. This isn't fair. None of this is fair. I shouldn't have been at that casino with Gwen. I should have been home studying, and just because Roman took an interest in my best friend, I got kidnapped and held. Now, I'm in a forced marriage,on my way to a new house with nothing but the clothes on my back and the phone in my pocket.

I didn't even bring a charger. I'm exhausted and hungry, and all I want to do is climb into bed. At least Viktor isn't expecting anything physical from me. He's handsome and rugged, but I don't think I can bring myself to have a physical relationship after everything that happened. I wanted to see someone, but how do I explain what I'm going through without bringing the Milov family into it? I feel trapped again and I start to breathe hard.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Viktor says, putting a hand on my leg. I flinch and he removes it. “It's okay. What's wrong? What's going on?”

“I just feel like I can't breathe.”

“Here,” he opens the window for me and fresh air rolls over me. I gulp in the fresh air and sniff, wiping at my eyes.

“We're here,” he says as he pulls into an estate. The guards open the gate for him and he pulls up in front of the mansion. He gets out and comes to open the door for me. I slide out of the car and look up at the tall building. There are three levels, including the ground floor. It's brick, which is pretty and the windows are huge. I like that it looks so open. Viktor puts a hand on the small of my back and guides me to and through the front door. There's a grand entrance hall, and he takes the coat I'm wearing off of me and hangs it up on a coat rack near the door. He looks around and sighs. “Well, this is home.”

I look around. There are doors leading off the entrance hall, and Viktor points them out. “That's the main living room. There's a gym through there, and a dining room through there that connects to the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

His question catches me off guard, and I nod numbly.

“There should be dinner in the fridge. I called ahead and asked the cook to keep two plates.” He walks ahead of me as we head to the kitchen. He rummages through the large fridge before pulling out two covered plates. He removes the tinfoil and pops one in the microwave. While it heats, he takes out a bottle of wine, opens it, and pours two generous glasses. I sit at the kitchen island, take a glass, and drink a big sip. The wine burns my throat like it does in my dreams, and I choke slightly.

“Slow down,” he says as the microwave dings. He puts the plate of food in front of me and heats up his own. “Eat.”

I take the fork he's holding out to me and I start to eat the rich food. It's delicious. I barely chew as I shovel the food into my mouth. Roast potatoes, roast meat, gravy, and vegetables. It's all so delicious. And warm.

My stomach quickly fills, and I feel slightly sick from rushing through my food. I see serviettes in the middle of the island and take one, wiping my mouth. “You said you had a room for me?” I ask quietly.

Viktor pushes his own food away and wipes his mouth. “Yes, this way.”

He gets up and drains his wine glass before he leads me out of the kitchen. We go upstairs and pass several doors before we reach one where he stops. “I'm right opposite you, so if you have any problems, just knock on my door.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

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