Page 52 of Forced By an Obsessive Bratva Stalker

I locked my jaw but said nothing.

“I know you don’t want her dead; that’s why she’s still alive,” he added. “But what do you think would happen if your enemies found out that you’re obsessed with some girl?”

A pause.

He continued, “She’ll automatically become a target. And the same girl you’re trying to protect might end up dead sooner than you think.”

My heart skipped a beat as the realization set in. Ilya was right, and I hadn’t considered it this way. The first thing that popped into my head was to double the security around her house and have more men tail her wherever she went.

He glanced at his watch like he had somewhere else to be. Ilya drained the remaining vodka down his throat in a single shot, his expression unchanging.

“I’d stay a little longer, but I have a flight to catch.” He dropped the empty glass on my table. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Ilya tapped my shoulders with both hands and then walked out of my office.

The second the door closed behind him, I picked up my phone, instructing Yuri to increase surveillance on Aria’s movements. Now that my brother had opened my eyes to the possibility of her life being in danger, all I wanted to do was ensure no external threat got close to her.

Later that evening, I tracked her down to her favorite café. And from my car across the street, I saw her speaking with a young man. Average height. Dirty-blond hair. Slightly portly. He was probably her classmate or something.

They were both standing outside the café discussing God-knows-what. It seemed harmless on the surface, but the way the idiot was smiling at her filled me with rage. I couldn’t stomach the idea that he might be into her.

How dare this kid want the same woman as me?

When she reached out, brushing something off his hair, my fingers tightened around the steering wheel. My blood boiled with fury, and in that moment, I wanted to send that kid to his maker.

I watched his face light up in a way that made her smile. Why was she smiling at him? Who the fuck was that guy?

He said something, and she laughed, her shoulders shaking in the process.

So beautiful.

The cool breeze brushed against her face, rustling her tousled blond hair in a way I found rather theatrical. As usual, she was dressed in comfortable clothes—denim and a loose top.

Her backpack was slung over her left shoulder. And when it slipped off slightly, the young man reached out, helping her to carry it. He already had his own on his back but still chose to pull the “perfect gentleman” card.

He opened the café door for her, let her walk in first, then followed and closed the door.

I clenched my jaw so tightly it hurt.

Through the large glass window, I watched them settle at her usual spot, laptops on the table.

Everything about their interaction was normal, probably strictly academic. Yet the fact that she was smiling at him didn’t sit well with me at all. Aria Bennett was mine, and no other man was allowed in the same room with her.

“My brother, a stone-cold son of a bitch with ice in his veins, is obsessed with a twenty-two-year-old journalism student…” Ilya’s voice echoed in my head.

He wasn’t wrong.

I was obsessed with her.

And I wasn’t apologetic about it.

My face twisted into a frown as I watched them from my car, fingers curling into fists.

What were they talking about?

What was this meeting for?

Chapter 17 – Aria

I threw up again today, the third time in the last couple of days. My head was constantly aching, my muscles and joints hurt—especially my waist—and I was mostly tired all the time.