Page 24 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
I turned around, shifting my gaze between the couch and the bed, wondering how this was possible. My eyes squinted at the possibility slipping into my mind, but I shook my head, trying to dismiss it as false.
What if it was him? What if it was Lev? What if he’d found me on the couch and then carried me to the bed?
No. He couldn’t have. That man was a heartless demon. No way he was capable of something as selfless as that.
Are you sure about that?I thought to myself.Because we’re talking about the same guy who took a pass on forcing himself on you.
That made the kind of sense it shouldn’t have, and it really freaked me out. It was the only explanation since I couldn’t remember falling asleep on the bed.
How dare he touch me? He should’ve left me where I was!
Well, I did wake up warm and cozy beneath the sheets.
I hated admitting that he was right to have carried me to the bed. I didn’t know monsters could pull a stunt like that.
Speaking of monsters, why was he anyway?
I explored the large bedroom, and there was no sign of him. Good. At least, I had some time to myself to breathe and think properly.
After a warm bath, I changed into some clean clothes—jean pants and a white top. How the hell did he even know my size? Every dress in the closet fit me perfectly, and none of themwere my old clothes. I didn’t wear any of them, thanks to that misogynistic monster who called himself my husband.
Quietly, I stepped out of the bedroom, wandering the mansion like a lost puppy. The building had a sleek, modern interior. The hallways glowed with soft light from the hanging chandeliers, and every room I checked gleamed with modern elegance.
However, despite all these, something was missing. Life. The air itself felt hollow, and for all its polish, the place felt empty. Almost dead. No photographs, no art adorning the walls, no personal touches. Only cold perfection.
This was a home? No. It was more like a prison.
While exploring the building, I noticed a few domestic staff: maids with straight faces and some mean-looking men. Nobody said a word to me; they all just went about their business as if I didn’t exist.
Maybe that was a good thing because I just wanted to be alone anyway.
***
Later that night, I caught the scent of something disturbing lingering in the hallway. I wasn’t sure what it was; it smelled like gun oil. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were, considering the status of the owner of this cursed place.
Not every room in the mansion was accessible. Some were locked as if something creepy was hidden behind those doors. Whatever was locked away in those rooms wasn’t my concern, and I wasn’t about to stick my nose where it didn’t belong.
Later that evening, about five men arrived at the mansion: men with mean faces, black suits, and eyes cold as ice. I was in the living room when they arrived, and although these men didn’t breathe a word to me, their negative aura made my skin crawl.
The housekeeper quietly led them to Lev’s study, and they followed behind her. The air was heavy with unspoken rules, thick with tension and something else that I couldn’t name yet.
Whatever business Lev had with those devils in suits was of no concern to me, even though deep down, their presence was unsettling.
I went back to the master bedroom and sat in a chair by the floor-to-ceiling window. My legs were pulled up in front of me, and my eyes were fixed on the breathtaking view of the city below. Twinkling lights sprawled beneath me, towers blinking with red and white as the city’s nightlife pulsed against the glass. Streets glowed in ribbons of gold, the full moon above casting an ethereal glow over the cityscape.
I sat there with my head against the glass, watching the world move on while I was stuck up here. I was far from my old life, far from everyone and everything I ever cared about. My education was on hold, and with the kind of man I was married to, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever return to college.
I stared at the beautiful city, but the glass felt more like a barrier than a window. This place wasn’t just Lev Tarasov’s home; it was where he kept the things he didn’t want the world to touch.
Unfortunately for me, I was one of those things now—one of his most prized possessions.
I hated it. And my God! I hated him. I hated him so much. But for now, I was stuck with him, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Not yet, anyway.
Chapter 12 —Lev
It had been three days since the wedding, and so far, we had barely spoken. I always left for work so early—while she was still asleep—and always returned so late—after she’d fallen asleep.
