Page 22 of The Bratva Enforcer and His Virgin Bride

Ben shifts behind me with restrained tension.

Karl, however, remains infuriatingly calm.

“The code has killed many people,” he says evenly. “That’s why I dislike discussing it openly.”

I say nothing.

He continues anyway. “Sofia’s father died because of it.”

Something about the way he says it feels practiced.

Measured for effect.

“She’s lived in fear ever since,” he adds. “Whether she fully understands why or not.”

I study him carefully now.

Every movement.

Every pause.

Every calculated breath.

“She’s vulnerable,” Karl says. “And if you want to learn about the code, then Sofia must be protected.”

“By marrying me,” I say flatly.

“Yes.”

The absurdity of the conversation almost irritates me enough to leave.

Almost.

I narrow my eyes. “How are you connected to her?”

Karl shakes his head once. “I’m not related to Sofia.”

“Then why involve yourself?”

His expression softens, just enough to resemble sincerity.

“I knew her father,” he says. “After his death, Sofia had no one. She was a child.” His gaze lowers before returning to mine. “She doesn’t know me. I stayed distant intentionally. But I’ve watched over her for years to ensure she remained safe.”

Lie.

Maybe not entirely.

But enough of one.

Men like Karl Jonathan don’t spend years protecting vulnerable girls out of kindness. Not without gaining something in return.

His concern is strategic.

Everything about him is strategic.

And yet—

None of that changes the reality sitting in front of me.