Page 105 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
Kaz and I stay silent, glaring daggers at each other.
Lukin lowers his hands with an exasperated sigh. “Good. Now that you’ve both stopped acting like twelve-year-olds….”
Kaz smirks but leans forward, finally focused.
Lukin turns to me, voice shifting into something heavier. “Logan’s been released. Officially cleared of all charges. We’ve made sure his name is clean—at least in the systems that matter.”
I nod, jaw tight. That’s one less weight on my chest. “Good.”
“But,” Lukin adds, giving me a look, “Jennie’s name is out there now. She’s no longer just the girl you stalked and married. She’s Adrian Rusnak’s wife. People in Bratva circles are talking. That makes her a high-value target.”
My grip tightens around the armrest, my voice low and sharp. “Anyone who even thinks of touching her will die.”
“I’m not warning you because I think you’ll fail,” Lukin says, leaning back in his chair. “I’m warning you because the more noise she makes—by being yours, by surviving this—the louder her name becomes. You need to be ahead of the threat, not just ready to answer it.”
I nod slowly. “I don’t react. I anticipate. Jennie’s mine. And I know how to protect what’s mine.”
Kaz whistles. “Damn. That poor girl doesn’t even stand a chance of breathing without your permission.”
“She breathes because of me,” I growl.
“Touché,” Kaz chuckles.
Lukin studies me for a moment, then nods in approval. “Good. Because from here on out, things only get more complicated.”
“Let them bring it on.”
Chapter 23 – Jennie
I stand on the balcony, arms folded on the cool iron rail, eyes tracing the horizon even though I’m not really seeing anything. The morning breeze is soft, but I can still feel the phantom sting on my cheek—the place where Yegor’s ring had struck me. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Not physically. Not after Adrian.
Adrian.
I close my eyes and inhale, tugging the oversized shirt tighter around me. His shirt. His scent. Spicy, bold, and somehow grounding. It smells like safety.
And danger.
I saw him kill Yegor. One shot. No hesitation. His eyes didn’t flicker. His hands didn’t shake. He just…ended him.
Because of me.
Because I was hurt. Because someone laid a hand on me. Because he loves me.
That thought settles low in my belly like warm thunder. I know it now. I can’t pretend I don’t. I’m in love with Adrian Rusnak. And it’s not the slow, easy kind of love they write poems about. It’s messy and reckless and terrifying. But it’s real. It’s rooted in blood and tears and desperate, gasping moments of truth.
He didn’t just save me from Yegor. He reminded me of who I am.
Strong. Alive. Capable.
He gave me back my power. Not because I needed a savior, but because he looked at me like I was the fire, not something that needed rescuing from it.
I breathe him in again, smile against the collar of his shirt, and tilt my head to the sky. I don’t know what’s coming next. But I know one thing with complete, terrifying certainty:
I am his.
And he is mine.
The door opens, and I feel him before I hear him.
