Page 11 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva
I smiled, but it was a mirthless smile coated in denial. “You’re joking, Dad. If this is some sort of joke, then—”
“It’s not a joke,” my father cut in. “I’ve consented to this marriage already.”
And then it hit me—the truth, the realization that I’d been right and I was a prey being led to her cage.
A wave of rage rolled through me, and before I could process what was happening, my head was banging with anger, and my blood pressure was spiking with disgust and hate. “Have you lost your damn minds?” I growled, my voice shaking.
“Zoe, please. Calm down,” Lillian said as she grabbed my hand. “Please. Don’t react like that—”
“Don’t react?” I erupted, jerking my hand away. “You brought me here to pawn me off to him. And what? You expect me to smile and nod and say, ‘I do’ like some submissive mongrel?”
“You’re getting married, not being pawned off,” Lilian said gently.
“Oh, no. I’m not getting married!” I jumped out of the chair, scraping it back. “I was right, you’ve lost your goddamn minds. You want to use me as a pawn to patch up your failing business. You’re selling me off to these—thesebeastswho killed Yulia!”
Matvey didn’t say a word. He just sat there like a statue, watching me come apart.
My father’s voice went hard. “That is enough!” He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to ripple through me like thunder. “The Yezhovs have protected us for years. You think we’d be here if not for them?”
I glared at him. “I’d sooner burn down all that we have than let you sell me like merchandise.”
Lillian stood there, her face streaked with tears. “You think I want this?” she panted. “You think I’m willing to watch you leave after what happened with Yulia? But if we don’t do this, something worse will happen.”
“Something worse?” I scoffed as I took in the fake tears streaming down her face.
She didn’t care about me or Yulia. To her, all that mattered was securing the future for my half-brothers. All my father cared about was maintaining his power and growing his business.
They were all sacrificing me for their legacy.
For the first time since Matvey entered the room, he made a sound—cleared his throat to draw attention to himself.
He set his glass down slowly, then looked at me with those dark, soulless eyes that I hated more than anything else.
“I know you’re angry,” he said softly. “This isn’t what you want, but it’s what both families need.”
His voice was smooth and deep and nearly kind. It was the kind of voice that coaxed folks to step right up without their even realizing they were walking into a trap.
I did not move.
Did not inhale.
Because something primal in me already knew what was in the works.
He stood up and fastened his jacket with deliberate nonchalance, as if this was just another business venture to him. Then he came around to the table, never once glancing away.
“Your sister’s death left a void,” he told me, his face hard and emotionless. “A void between two powerful families, and it cannot be ignored. Our lives, our legacies, our alliance depend on this.”
My breath hitched. “Don’t you use her as an excuse for this. I know what you did to her. I know everything.”
He quirked a brow, his dark eyes glistening with twisted amusement. “You do?”
My chest constricted, tension spilling over in my stomach. “Yulia did not die of heart failure. She died in your house. Under your name. Your family killed her, one agonizing breath at a time.”
Something flickered in his eyes. The only crack in that flawless composure.
“Maybe she died because she was married to a man who couldn’t love her,” I screamed, louder now, eyes aflame. “Maybe she couldn’t stand being your chess piece. Maybe she saw what I see now, that the world you built is not one of family. It is one of power. Control. Obedience.”
“Stop,” my father commanded, but I didn’t.
