Page 27 of Forced Mafia Bride
It wouldn’t have been the first time Ronan started a shooting spree. When Ronan was angry, the best advice was to steer clear.Veryfar away from him because all points were possible shooting ranges.
“Aiden told me that he helpedhimgain access to the church and I…I mean, what kind of friend would I be if I left you all alone?”
The meaning of her words sank with an impact that left me with partial relief. “So, you’re staying here. With me.”
“Yes.” She smiled and swiftly wiped away the crystal tears lining her lashes. Hannah was not the mushy-feeling type. Asquickly as the tears came, she was going to get rid of them with an even quicker speed.
I smiled back, but gradually, that low flickering flame that felt like anger changed course from Aiden to the man who saved his life. With curled fists and without thinking, I marched up to him, ignoring the stabbing pain from my tiny toe in the cursed heels.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Aiden. It’s not your fault that he is who he is. However, the one person I don’t trust ishim,” I said, looking past my reflection in the depths of Nikolai’s eyes and glaring at the hard lines on his face. “I understand it better now, why my proposal was worth nothing to you. You already had Aiden working for you on the inside, and given his close rank working with Ronan, the information you get from him is priceless, huh? But to what end?”
A sudden mask of pretense marred the grin on his lips, and he put a hand on his chest, feigning a pout like a falsely accused victim. “Are you insinuating something?”
“Yes. Yes, you’re darn right I am!” I stamped my shoes, digging the pointy stilettos deeper into the rug, and pointed a finger at him. “You had an opportunity, a good one. Ronan was right there, defenseless. You could have shot him, strangled him, done whatever the fuck you pleased with him. But you came for me and left him on his knees, for what? Just to humiliate him? Was that yourgeniusplan?”
The pitiful doe-eyes melted away, and his granite features were as sharp as ever. Refilling his tumbler, he swirled the content and gave a dismissing wave of his hand before swallowing a huge gulp.
“Humiliation is only the beginning, princess.” He dropped the tumbler and rested his calloused hands on the taut planes of his stomach, visible beneath the dark button-down. “You will be my bride.”
The falling silence was sudden,deafening. My heart thundered against my chest, pounding like drums in my ears. I took steps back, almost stumbling on my shoes, away from him, from the nightmare I had in split seconds—because it had to be a nightmare.I must have heard wrong. I didn’t escape from one misfortunate wedding ceremony to fall face-first into another one.
Over my shoulders, Hannah and Aiden both looked like they’d seen a ghost, and the man on the sofa…he was going through his phone like they’d only announced lunch.
“You are joking.” But I knew he wasn’t. Men like Nikolai didn’t bluff. I blinked back tears as fast as Hannah would have. “Ha. Ha. Nice try. Your sense of humor is over the roof. Too bad, no one’s laughing.”
Nikolai was on his feet in seconds, taking majestic strides with a hand in the pocket of his dress pants. The tease was gone from his eyes, blown out like a gust of wind on a candle flame.
He cleared the space between us and tipped my chin up so I faced him squarely. “Welcome to the real world, where you learn that everything comes with a price. Providing an escape from Tristan was a service that, sadly for you, attracts a fee, which you have no option but to pay.”
I grated my teeth hard enough to keep the burning tears from spilling. “Never. This is…this is just a bad dream. I’m going to sleep and wake up and realize—”
“That tomorrow is Sunday. Perfect day to plan a wedding, is it not?” He released my chin with an eye roll, gallantly returning to his seat. “You will marry me, Rosalyn. Believe it or not.”
Chapter 12 – Nikolai
Two Weeks Later
Timur rubbed his hands with an arrogant smirk and pulled his chair closer to the table. His eyes lit with the unmistakable glow of a victor in an aggressive match. I scoffed, rolled up my sleeves, and adjusted the tilted angle of the chess board. We hadn’t even started yet, and he already looked like he held the trophy.
“Why do you always set yourself up for defeat?”
The sound of his laughter was just as I was used to—rich, haughty, and young. He ran a hand over his buzzcut, tilting closer to inspect the game that was yet to begin. “Are we doing this or what?”
“Definitelyor what.” I pushed his head back with two fingers and positioned my elbows on my knees. “You just never get tired of losing. I used to love it—your silent way of respecting that I’m the boss—but it’s grown to be tiring.”
“I bet five that Timur’s going to win today,” Anatoly piped up on the black velvet sofa at the corner of the office. He touched the tip of his thumb to his tongue and flipped a page of theLA Weeklyon his thighs, his reflection on the ceiling-to-floor glass blurring with the constant drop of rain pelts.
“Five what?”
“Five bucks.” Without lifting his face, he flipped another page, and Timur caught his blurry smile through his reflection on the glass. “There’s no way I’m staking more than that.”
Timur faked a snort. “Well, it is nice to know that you have that much faith in me. Doesn’t matter anyways. With or without anyone’s support, I’m taking Niko down today.”
“Losers fucking talk too much.”
He flashed his middle finger and mimicked my elbows on my knees.
I was sitting across from him, the chess board between us like a battleground, highlighting our obvious differences. It was a business-working day, but Timur preferred to show up in a striped short-sleeve polo, a vibrant pair of dark jeans, and a pair of black sneakers, strikingly opposed to my white dress shirt and pants. I was always the superior player, but Timur was no pushover. He wasn’t one to give up quickly on anything. Years ago, he developed a cunning mind and a talent for strategy that made him a formidable opponent.