Page 29 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
Lukin actually chokes. “Jesus, Kaz.”
“What? It’s a valid question.”
I push past them, jaw tight. If Kaz weren’t my best friend, he’d be dead for making such jokes about my wife. He should know better.
I don’t like the way her friends are touching her.
Zoe’s hand is curled too tightly around Jennie’s wrist, and Violet’s linked their arms again like they can form some kind of shield between my wife and me.
Like I’m the danger.
I am.
But that’s not the point.
She belongs to me now.
As I approach them, Zoe whispers something in Jennie’s ear, while Violet starts looking at me like she’s ready to punch a hole through me. I bite back an evil smile. I can wipe her off the surface of the earth, and no one would ask it of me. She’s the most vulnerable one here. Jennie belongs to me. Zoe belongs to Lukin. She’s alone and unprotected.
I finally reach them and plaster a fake smile on my face. “I’ll take it from here.”
Zoe straightens, her expression calm but her eyes flashing. “She needs a moment.”
“No.”
That’s it. That’s all I say.
Violet’s jaw tightens, like she’s about to argue, but Zoe’s smarter. She presses her lips into a tight line and pulls her friend back.
“She’s not a prisoner,” Violet snaps.
I look her dead in the eye. “She’s my wife.”
Jennie doesn’t say a word. Her gaze flickers between us, wide and unreadable.
Good.
She follows me without protest. I open the car door and guide her in with a hand on the small of her back—barely a touch, but she shivers anyway.
Zalar pulls the door shut behind us and takes the driver’s seat.
I don’t look back.
Jennie sits silently beside me, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her wedding dress glows like midnight, and I can smell the faint trace of her perfume even above the clean leather interior.
I should say something. Maybe something calm. Reassuring.
But I don’t.
Instead, I settle back into the seat, stretch my arm across the top of the bench behind her, and say only two words:
“Home, Zalar.”
And the car pulls away.
We arrive at the estate just past dusk.
The staff waits by the doors like statues. Silent. Still. Respectful.
