Page 20 of The Bratva's Arranged Bride

Shifting to face her fully, I took up the limited space between us and propped her chin up with my finger. I shamelessly raked my eyes along her captivating features.

“I have my reasons…but you only need to know just one,” I began, tone lighter than it had been. “I want you because you’re mine, Tia. You have been since the moment your dad agreed to this whole thing. Whether you want to accept it or not, that point will become very clear soon enough.”

At the touch and the smoother inflection of my words, the breath caught in her throat. Her eyes just barely narrowed, seemingly disapproving of my audacity. “And what if I refuse to accept it?”

With a faint pull at the corner of my lips, I chuckled and lightly brushed my thumb against her lower lip. “Then the game will only be more interesting for me…and I’ll savor every moment.”

Despite the slight fluster that showed in her eyes and cheeks, Tia’s gaze on me sharpened with her defiance. Regardless of how she tried to school her emotions, something else lingered beneath the surface.

“You think this is a game?”

“Yes, in a sense, it is. So long as you resist me, you’ll only delay it further,” I murmured, barely tilting her head up while I leaned a touch closer. My breath ghosted across her skin, so tantalizingly close to her inviting mouth. “Don’t worry, though…I’ll be patient, and you’ll come around to it eventually.”

Tia didn’t say anything, not while she seemed to struggle with my proximity. I caught her hard swallow, along with the way she tried so hard to keep her eyes on mine.

My words lingered between us in the challenge they were meant to be, and every part of me basked in it.

With another hum of consideration and satisfaction at the sight of her so close, I whispered above her lips, “And I have every reason to believe you’ll learn to like it,sweetheart.”

For a fraction of a second, something slipped through that attempted resolve of hers. It wasn’t fear, necessarily, but…doubt. Doubt in her ability to resist me completely, it seemed.

That only brought me a greater sense of satisfaction, and I was itching for her to continue. To push against me and give me more reasons to try harder.

Regardless of how she thought of it at the moment, Tia was going to be mine in every way, and the road to that point was going to be especially sweet.

Chapter 8 - Tia

I hated Val.

I hated the arrangement I was forced into, and I hated how attractive I found him even more.

It only muddied the situation and made it harder for me to keep my guard up.

At the very least, dwelling on the unfairness and how twisted it all was helped me maintain my disdain for him.

My dad’s betrayal reminded me that I couldn’t trust anyone—not even my own flesh and blood.

That meant I couldn’t trust Val for even a moment, regardless of how pretty he was or how sensual his words had been.

He made it very clear that he was playing a game…toying with me for reasons I still didn’t understand. He said as much himself.

It didn’t matter how either of them tried to reassure me about how beneficial our marriage would be to both sides—it wasn’t what I wanted, and I wasn’t prepared to be treated like a chess piece.

Despite being given the night to sleep on everything, I couldn’t stomach the fact that my dad was following through with the sham deal. I especially couldn’t understand how I, of all people, could get swept into something so ridiculous.

Being married off like we were stuck in some bygone era…as if my entire value came from what I could offer Val, and what the deal could provide my dad.

It still didn’t make any sense to me. How marrying me off to one of his associates would benefit Dad in any capacity.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to.

Needless to say, I spent most of the night tossing and turning in that hotel room while the dread and anxiety clawed at me.

I didn’t want to be married. Certainly not to a man I didn’t know—one who took far too much pleasure in teasing me and watching me suffer.

No part of me understood what he was playing at, or what he stood to gain, but it seemed I had no choice.

Even after spending the morning begging my dad not to make me do it. To let me go and return to the life I made for myself, regardless of how scant it was.

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