Page 31 of The Bratva's Forced Bride
I grabbed a pack of cigarettes and took out a stick. Struck a lighter under it and pulled it back as the stub glowed merrily. “Tut, tut, tut. Such a slow learner.” I exhaled. “In case you haven’t noticed, I get to do whatever the hell I want.”
With visible anger, she got off the bed with the sheets wrapped around her body, she snapped at me. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m engaged to a man who loves me very, very—”
I struck the chest of drawers with my fist, and she stopped immediately. I was angry, for reasons I couldn’t even recognize. But one thing was for sure: I didn’t want to hear about that fucker Mercer.
“Don’t be so fucking blind, Addison.” How could she not see his true nature, the fucking, slithering snake under the suit and the blue eyes? “Be fucking smart. If he fucking loved you that much, he would have given himself up for you long ago. He doesn’t care about you; he doesn’t care if I fuck your beautiful body ...”
“Stop.”
“Or torture you ...”
“Please, stop.”
“Or sell you off to pigs ...”
“Stop!”
“Get it in that pretty head of yours; your fiancé is a selfish son of a bitch that only looks out for himself.”
Her grip on the sheets tightened and tears ran down her cheeks. My words were harsh and cold. But they were facts and nothing else. Fuck her if she couldn’t handle the truth.
She trembled, a floodgate opened, she let it all out, and her shoulders shook violently. But I ignored her. And the painful squeeze in my chest as I watched her crying.
To distract myself from the unpleasant constriction of my lungs, I rolled my eyes and took a long drag on the cigarette.
White puffy clouds escaped when I spoke. “Spare us both the drama and get ready to be a bride. The news will be officially announced soon and then I’ll have to double the number of men to protect you. I have enemies. I don’t want anyone to take my bride away from me as I took you away from your loving groom, who, if I remember correctly, saved his own ass that night and left you behind.”
I laughed. And she gave me a disgusted look. “This was never about me, was it? I was just a pawn in this game, and I played right into your hands, didn’t I?”
I stayed silent.
She stomped to the door and yanked it open. She gave me one last look, the blazing flames hotter than a fiery furnace and then she huffed.
“I hate you, Mark Varkov.”
Her bitterness and hatred cut through the air like a butcher’s knife through a pea pod. And it penetrated deeper than I had expected. But when I turned toward her, a lazy grin appeared on my lips. I motioned toward her with the cigarette.
“And you make a good fuck, Addison Mae.”
Her lips quivered and more tears streamed down her cheeks. And without another word, she marched out and slammed the door.
Eerie silence replaced the fading sound of her footsteps and cold displaced the warmth we had shared only minutes ago.
I exhaled smoky clouds.
I've been in this business for over twenty-five years and have never regretted an action.
But then Addison Mae came along, and now I felt like I’d been punched in the fucking gut.
Chapter 12 - Addison
“The most dangerous liars are those that think they are telling the truth.” – Anonymous.
Maeva came back with more pins and needles and a weird-looking, unfinished corset.
Cielle didn’t accompany her today, but as always, she oversaw the fitting like a pro. As ordered by the devil himself, I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until after our wedding. Therefore, all fittings and shopping had to be done in the house as soon as his order went into effect.
Maeva hated it. And I did too. But we had to put up with each other until I’d had enough of her malicious poking and pricking me with needles.