Page 35 of His Forced Bride

Page List

Font Size:

"You could have any woman you wanted. Why force someone who hates you?"

He sets the fork aside and leans back in his chair, studying me with those dark, penetrating eyes.

"Hate is honest. Hate is real. Most people lie about what they feel, especially around men in my position. But you…"

He reaches for his wine glass.

"You show me exactly what you think, even when it's dangerous to do so."

"That doesn't answer my question," I snarl, but I take those words as his compliment to me.

"Doesn't it?"

He takes a sip of wine, never breaking eye contact.

"I don't want a wife who pretends to love me for my money or my protection. I want someone who fights back, who challenges me, who won't break under pressure."

"So you'll force me to marry you so you can break me yourself?"

"So I can shape you into something stronger."

I want to argue, to throw his arrogance back in his face, but part of me recognizes the truth in what he's saying.

I am strong.

I did build my company from nothing, did fight for every contract and client.

But strength without freedom is just another form of imprisonment.

"My father never agreed to this. He wanted me to marry Dominic, not an old man."

"Your father was a practical man. He understood that business arrangements require backup plans."

Yuri's gaze tightens on my face, and I swallow the lump forming there.

There's no way in hell Batya would allow this.

"I won't do it."

"Yes, you will."

The certainty in his voice ignites the rage that's been building all evening.

I surge to my feet, the chair scraping against the floor.

"You can't make me marry you. I don't care what papers you have or what my father wrote. I won't speak those vows."

Yuri rises as well, his greater height forcing me to crane my neck to meet his eyes.

"You'll speak them, Inessa. And you'll do it when I tell you to."

"And if I refuse?"

Crossing my arms over my chest, I look past him, still unable to squelch the heat in my belly, and I stare at the window where the sky is the color of gunmetal and thick clouds are rolling in.

"Then you'll watch your employees lose their jobs one by one. Your suppliers will cancel their contracts. Your buyers will find other designers. Your company will die slowly and painfully while you sit here knowing you could have prevented it."

I slam my fist on the table hard enough to make the crystal glasses ring.