Page 7 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
Suddenly, I realize what a grave mistake I made getting into this car. A stranger’s car.
What the hell was I thinking?
Ilariy, if that’s even his name, finally pulls up to a dark building in the middle of nowhere.
“Get out,” he says, his brows furrowed.
“No.” I grip my seat, my heart pounding. “Tell me what’s happening!”
He gets out, walks over to my side, and pulls me out of the car. I try to fight, but he’s too strong, dragging me toward the warehouse entrance.
“Let me go!” I scream at last, hoping someone might hear.
“No one can hear you here,” he says, pushing open a heavy door. “And if they could, they wouldn’t care.”
Inside, the space is empty, looks abandoned. We walk down a corridor and enter a small room at the end.
Inside stands an elderly man. No. A priest.
There’s a small table in front of him, with papers laid out. Two men in suits stand at attention, like witnesses.
“What is this?” I whisper, though in my heart, I fear I already know.
I’ve watched enough crazy films to recognize such a scene; I think I must be dreaming because things like this don’t happen in real life—forced marriages. It can’t be happening…not to me.
Ilariy finally turns to look at me fully, his expression unreadable.
And then, he says six words that almost make me faint. “You’re about to become my wife.”
Chapter 3 - Ilariy
I can’t believe my luck as I stare at the Sokolov princess trembling before me. God, she puts on a good act. I watch her pale and gasp, her eyes darting from me to the priest behind.
Unbelievable, this luck that has been showered upon me tonight. My brothers won’t believe it. I had been so furious when I went to The Dirty Good tonight. And now, instead of bringing back information on the Sokolovs, I get to bring back a Sokolov herself.
I can already imagine the treasure trove of information she must be sitting on. No matter what happens, I’m not letting her go until I have my revenge against her family.
And she’s going to help me get it.
I take one step toward her and she whelps, scrambles back with arms outstretched as though that’s enough to keep me at bay. “Please…Ilariy…” she says, softly. “This has to be some kind of joke. Did someone put you up to this?”
Her voice shakes, quivers. She looks like a frightened little thing, but I’m guessing she has been trained for situations like this.
“This is not a joke,” I say calmly and watch her eyes widen. “We’re getting married. Tonight.”
“What?” she screeches now, looking at the priest. “Please, Sir,” she begs him now. “You can’t let this happen.”
When the priest says nothing, she freezes. She looks back at me, and I see tears well in her eyes as she begs. “Please.”
“Please isn’t enough, is it now?” I ask, reaching closer until I tower over her. “Not after what your family did to mine.”
“M…my brothers?” she whimpers, meeting my eyes.
“Yes. Who else?”
She throws her hands up in the air. “But, I don’t even know who you are! Nothing about your family! Please, I just want to go home to my brothers. I swear you’ve got this all wrong. My brothers run restaurants. Whoever you’re looking for…it’s not them!”
Is she seriously going on about restaurants?She’s reallyquitethe actress. I might move to force her to the priest if I have to, but she scrambles back again, looking around her wildly.
