Page 14 of Dark Bratva Christmas
“It’s a fucking piece of paper,” I laugh dryly. “Your job is to be a good wife, and I’ll give you the heir.”
Catarina’s eyes burn with fury. “I think I’d rather drink my own vomit.”
“Oh? Well, I’m sure that can be arranged.” I give her a wicked smile. “You’ll be fine.”
But that’s not enough. She keeps opening her mouth.Fuck, that’s annoying.
“Do you really think this is going to work?” She starts pacing again. “You saw what happened at my wedding. If Mikhail was killed because of this union, somebody's going to be coming for both of us very soon,” Catarina continues, trying to argue her way out of this marriage even though both of our names are already signed on the certificate. “There has to be some other way to have an alliance without…this.” Catarina looks at me, a frown tugging at her lips.
I think that might be the first time I’veeverevoked that reaction out of a woman who was not my mother or grandmother.
“Someone could kill us.” She stares at me.
I laugh. “You can’t kill a man who’s already dead. Let them try.”
“Ah, you really are the devil they call you then,” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head. “Disgusting.”
“You’re full of compliments tonight.”
“Fuck you,” she bites back, her blue eyes burning with the same hate I have for her simmering in my chest. “I was supposed to be with Mikhail.”
“Trust me, I wish you would’ve been,” I growl, feeling a strange pain in my chest. “Do you think I enjoy tying myself to the woman my brother was supposed to marry?”
I watch as her body tenses, and she stops pacing, coming right for me. Catarina glares up at me. “This isn't aboutwant. This is about survival. I’m not stupid. I am well aware you don’t like me anymore than I like you, and I bet your brother isrollingin his goddamn grave for me to have to bethismiserable.”
I lean down, my nose nearly brushing hers. “He’ll really be rolling when I bend you over and rail you.”
She opens her mouth like she's going to say something, but she quickly closes it and I hear a soft inhale thatalmostweakens my resolve. Catarina shakes her head and walks by me, planning on storming to the door.
“If this is peace, then I’d rather have war,” she says.
I grab her arm before she's out of reach and stop her. I don't know how I can be clearer with her. This isn't a negotiation. Shewillunderstand.
“War has already killed my brother,” I grit out, just as she turns back to look at me. Her eye make-up is already running downher face, but I finish my point anyway. “Don't let his death be for nothing.”
That breaks her and her shoulders slump forward as she lets out a quiet sob. I have this sudden urge to reach forward and comfort her, but I hold back. All I can worry about right now is making sure I uphold my end of the bargain with Boris.
I give her a moment, letting her dry her eyes and take a few deep breaths to control herself. I can sense the apprehension wafting off of her as if it were my own. She knows what being married to me will entail and she's nervous.
Silence falls between us for a few moments, and my eyes shift toward the window. It’s snowing again, and as much as I swear my soul is blackened, I can’t deny I love the winter.Maybeit’s because I’m so fucking cold. I don’t know.
“We have to…” Catarina’s voice comes out in a whisper, but still cuts into my thoughts. “We have to have an heir…For peace…”
It’s not a question. She’s just stating the facts she figured out by now. I’m hesitant for a moment, recalling that this is supposed to be just as much of a message as it is about peace. But I don’t correct her. My cock will never turn down good pussy.
Even if it’s my dead brother’s supposed-to-be wife.
“I want to get it over with,” Catarina takes a step toward me, her eyes dry now. “I don’t want to prolong it. Just get it done with. But you should know something…”
I furrow my brow, bracing for the worst. “Yes?”
“I haven’t done it before.”
Holy fuck, she’s a virgin!
My cock grows rigid at the thought of being the first to take her.
“Don’t stare at me like that,” she snaps. “I’m not a freak of nature. I just…My father was very…protective. Mikhail and I never…We never had a chance.”
