Page 2 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

Nikolai's voice is gruff with concern. "We've had reports of rival families sniffing around. Your safety isn't guaranteed out here."

I cross my arms, feeling my fierce side emerge. "And what about my happiness? My chance to be normal? To make friends who don't flinch at the sight of a gun?"

Artyom reaches out, his hand gentle on my shoulder. "We want you to be happy, Nat. But your life comes first. If anything happened to you, we wouldn’t be able to survive it.”

I shrug him off, my chest tight with frustration. “I know that. I do. But I’m suffocating in our world! Don't you see? I need space to breathe, to figure out who I am beyond just being an Orlov."

Fedor's eyes narrow. "And who exactly is that, Sister? Some club-hopping party girl?"

His words sting, but I lift my chin defiantly. "If that's what I want to be, yes! Or maybe I'll open a bakery. Or travel. The point is, I get to choose."

I can see the worry etched on their faces, know how scared they are for me. It seeps me in guilt, but I’ve reached an inflection point where I know I have to start living for myself, even if it brings pain. It took me a long time to finally understand what it is I want, and even longer to muster up the courage to take action toward building this life.

"I love you all," I say, my voice softening. "But I need this. Please, try to understand. You can't just barge in here and dictate my life. I'm not a child anymore."

My older brothers look at one another as though they’re hiding something. Meanwhile, Artyom smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Could've fooled me. Especially with that stuffed bear I spotted on your bed."

I feel my cheeks heat up. "Hey! Mr. Snuggles is a cherished childhood memento, I'll have you know."

"Mr. Snuggles?" Artyom chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, Nat, you're not helping your case here."

Despite myself, I can't help but laugh. "Okay, fine. Maybe I'm not entirely grown up. But I'm adult enough to make my own decisions."

Nikolai clears his throat, his expression turning serious again. "Speaking of decisions, Natalia… we've come up with a solution. A compromise, if you will."

“Oh, we’re doing this now, are we?” Fedor mutters under his breath, avoiding my gaze.

Nikolai doesn’t respond and all my brothers go quiet, even Artyom. I try to meet their gazes and they bristle under my look. Something’s up and I know them well enough to know whatever plan they have isn’t something I should be excited for.

My smile fades, replaced by a knot of apprehension in my stomach. "What kind of compromise?"

The brothers exchange glances, and I feel my heart rate quicken. Finally, Fedor speaks up.

"We've arranged a marriage proposal… to the Zolotov family."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I stagger back until I’m leaning against my dressing table, my mind reeling. "What? Marriage? Are you out of your minds?"

"It's for your protection," Nikolai insists.

I shake my head vehemently, anger and disbelief coursing through me. "No. Absolutely not. You can't just… just trade me off like some pawn!"

"Natalia, please," Artyom pleads. "At least consider it. The Zolotovs are a good family, and—"

"I don't care if they're the bloody royal family!" I explode, my voice rising. "This is my life we're talking about. My future. And you think you can just… just arrange it without even asking me? I’ve only just moved out to live my life away from you and you’re trying to reel me right back into it!”

The room falls silent, tension thick in the air. I look at each of my brothers in turn, seeing the conflict in their eyes. I’ve never felt more betrayed. My mind races, a jumble of conflicting emotions. Freedom. Safety. Love. Duty. The words swirl in my head, colliding and separating like oil and water. I begin to pace the room, my brothers' eyes following me.

Dima clears his throat, and I instinctively look at him. He steps forward, but seeing the rage in my eyes thinks better of it and steps back into his original position. "Look,” he says, his hands in a placating gesture. “Think of it this way, You'd be away from us, but still under the umbrella of a powerful family. It's the best of both worlds. You get to be free of us and discover who you are without the Orlov name attached, but you’d still be protected. It’s a compromise between the freedom you seek and the protection we want you to have. As Nikolai said, it’s a compromise and you can meet us halfway.”

"You're saying I'd be… free?" I finally ask, my voice small. "Away from the family, but still protected?"

Dima nods eagerly. "Exactly, Nat. You'd have your own life, your own space. You can do the work you want, travel around, and still be out and about without being under our radar all the time. We’d be happy knowing you have the added security of the Zolotov name.”

I chew my lip, considering. It sounds almost too good to be true, which means it probably is. Suddenly, my stubborn streak flares up, and I whirl to face them.

"And what about what I want?" I demand, hands on my hips. "Did any of you even think to ask me if I want to get married? To a stranger, no less?"

Nikolai sighs. "Natalia, we're trying to—"

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