Page 38 of Forced By the Bratva

I pulled back. “Don’t touch me!” My lips trembled as my heart shattered into pieces. “I’m tired, Ilya. And you know what? Maybe I’m better off dead. I’d rather die at the hands of your Bratva brothers than live with you and risk forgetting who I am.”

Something flashed across his face. It wasn’t anger. It was pain. Hurt. And I almost felt sorry for being so harsh.

Overwhelmed with all the emotions coursing through me at once, I dropped to my knees on the wet ground.

My breath came uneven. Rain trickled down my face, mixing with my tears as I cried, as I let my pain finally find expression.

He crouched in front of me, completely drenched, dark strands flat against his forehead.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. Only the rain, the occasional thunder, and the sound of my own ragged breathing filled the space between us.

Then he reached forward and lifted my chin. Firm. Careful, despite everything that had just happened. He made me look at him.

“There’s a way to fix this once and for all,” he said softly.

I hesitated, a hint of curiosity swelling in me. “How?”

A beat.

Ilya looked me straight in the eye and said two little words that left me stunned.

“Marry me.”

My heart dropped so violently I could barely breathe.

Chapter 14 – Ilya

The car’s cabin was silent on the drive back to the mansion, except for the wipers, which dragged hard across the windshield, and the low hum of the engine.

Iris sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her head resting against the glass. She hadn’t looked at me since I’d gotten her into the car.

I kept my eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, gripping harder than I needed to.

My pulse still hadn’t leveled out, and my heart hadn’t stopped racing from the fear of almost losing her.

I locked my jaw, my grip tightening around the steering wheel as I thought about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t tackled her out of the way on time.

She would’ve been pinned to that tree—she would’ve died on the spot, and there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to save her. Tonight made me realize how much I actually cared about her because I hadn’t been this scared in a long time.

Perhaps I should’ve handled the situation better back there, considering that she’d come face-to-face with death and survived. I should’ve checked whether she was hurt instead of yelling at her.

Before now, I never needed to yell; I was never moved enough to raise my voice at anyone. I had my own ways of dealing with situations without getting emotional.

However, tonight, I’d thrown all that discipline out the window and let my emotions take control. Never again. In my defense, though, the fear of losing her had triggered something I’d buried long ago.

Her voice echoed in my head, “Living with you in that house is torture, Ilya!”

“…I’d rather die at the hands of your Bratva brothers than live with you and risk forgetting who I am.”

Those words stung like a nasty bee, painful enough to leave me speechless.

I’d killed more men than I could count and fought more brutal wars than most people in the world. Yet none of them had hurt as much as this.

She shivered beside me, arms tightening around herself.

I reached over and turned the heat up without a word.

She didn’t thank me. Didn’t look at me either. Just kept staring out at the rain streaking sideways across the glass, jaw locked.