Page 19 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
I drew a deep breath, fighting back the tears that welled in my eyes. Under different circumstances, this would’ve been a happy moment with tears of joy. But it wasn’t. It was the exact opposite, and these tears were from a place of heartbreak, pain, and agony.
Everything was happening so fast, and there was no time to think, analyze, or even plan. To make matters worse, I had no say in the preparation of this supposed big day. None whatsoever. Which proved the fact that I was not a bride, just a prisoner pretending to be one.
Today wasn’t about me or my happiness, as most people assumed. It was about Lev Tarasov and his pride. For him, today was the day he would officially claim me as just another piece of property he bought at auction. I was broken on the inside, yet on the outside, I had to look and play the part. I had to act like the happiest bride on Earth because my jailer made it clear that it was what he expected from me.
If only the ground would open up and swallow me whole right now, it would spare me from a lifetime of regret, pain, and suffering.
I tipped my head toward the ceiling so the tears would travel back instead of trickling down my cheeks.
“You got this, girl. You got this,” I whispered to myself, letting out a series of slow breaths.
A knock on the door snapped me back to reality, my shoulders flinching at the sudden sound. My hands darted to my face, and with the back of my fingers, I gently dabbed my eyes. “Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s me, princess,” Dad answered from behind the door.
I hesitated for a moment, wiping the tears from my lashes. “Come in, it’s open.”
The door creaked slightly, and he walked inside, dressed in an impeccably tailored black tux with a bow tie around his neck. “Hey, baby,” he said softly, his voice calm and gentle.
My lips curled into a faint grin. “Hi, Dad.”
His polished shoes scuffed against the marble floor as he drew closer, beaming with pride. “You look amazing.”
My cheeks flushed a little, and I looked down at the floor. “Thank you.”
He stopped in front of me, his cologne filling my space. Dad took my hand and gently lifted my chin. I tried to avoid his gaze, but he kept trying to meet my eyes until he finally did.
“I know this is difficult,” he said, with a voice so tender and almost comforting. “And I cannot begin to tell you just how much your sacrifice means to me.” He squeezed against my fingers. “But know this: I am so proud of you.” His smile broadened.
A small, almost imperceptible smile twitched at a corner of my mouth.
Of course, he was proud of me—his business was booming again, his name was out of the gutters, and his reputation had been restored. Why wouldn’t he be proud of the sacrificial lamb that gave up everything to save his empire?
At the end of the day, both my father and my soon-to-be husband were first and foremost businessmen before anythingelse. In all of this craziness, I was the only one who lost everything while these two men profited off my sacrifice. Maybe it was silly to feel used by them, but honestly, that was how I felt right now.
They both used me to get what they wanted, and I was so blinded by my emotions that I couldn’t see it. This was a game, and I was the pawn in it. Dad used me to regain everything he had lost, and Lev used me for reasons I was still trying to understand.
I never took the time to connect the dots until now, and it hit me like an arrow to the heart. At this point, I was starting to doubt my father’s motive behind all of this.
Indeed, Dad hadn’t forced me into this marriage; I willingly walked right into it in order to save his life. But wait a minute, was his life ever really in danger? Was he counting on me to step in and salvage the situation?
Nothing was adding up anymore. It suddenly didn’t make sense to me, and I couldn’t help feeling stupid. I knew this marriage was a huge mistake, but I used to think it was worth it. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
Or maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Maybe Dad didn’t mean for any of this to happen; maybe he didn’t plan to profit off my sacrifice. Maybe he was just as heartbroken as I was.
Why was I confused just now? Wasn’t the whole point of my sacrifice to help my father get back on his feet? Did that mean he would automatically benefit from it?
I didn’t know what to think or believe anymore—wasn’t sure what was true or false, whether I’d been tricked or not.
Maybe this entire situation was messing with my head. Maybe it had affected me more than I cared to admit.
“Ravyn—”
I blinked back to the present at the sound of my father’s voice.
“Are you okay?” he asked, gripping my shoulders tenderly, his eyes boring into mine.
I must’ve zoned out while he was talking, hence the intensity of the concern flickering in his gaze. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
