Page 13 of Stolen By the Bratva

“Can’t you” —the seamstress winced— “suck it in?” She tugged at the fabric over my torso.

I knew she meant my stomach, but that wasn’t the issue. My hourglass curves were tricky to tailor too, but she wasn’t getting away with talking to me like that. “My tits?” I snapped. “Not sure how I can suck them in.”

She sneered at me. “Just?—”

“Wouldn’t expect you to know.” As soon as the catty words left my mouth, I regretted them. Snapping back at people, even a seamstress ordered to do this fitting so quickly, wasn’t how I was trained to be. It wasn’t my nature to be so bitter and bitchy like this. It wasn’t her fault I was stuck in this position. I couldn’t take my frustration out on her for what I had to do.

Tipping her chin up, she resumed fitting my dress to me. An hour later, she seemed satisfied with her speedy handiwork. My nerves scaled higher with each minute that passed, and I regretted not eating earlier. I couldn’t have, anyway. My father insisted that I fast and try to look slimmer for the memorable day tomorrow. Anxiety swirled in my empty stomach, and I wished I could rub it. It had taken a dozen barked orders not to mar the dress for me to remember that I couldn’t give myself any comfort.

My father was asked to enter and check the quality of the dress before I could take it off. His opinion mattered, not mine. It was his image that counted, not mine. I was a pawn, but dammit, I wanted to rip these stupid lacy sleeves off already.

He entered, not smiling or allowing any reaction to show on his face. With impatience and the usual glare of scorn and disapproval, he looked me over. “I suppose it’s the best you can do.”

“Given the hasty timeline?—”

“Not the rush.” My father barely glanced at her, giving me his full annoyance. “The best you can do with her.”

I refused to react. Standing still with my chin held high, I ignored her slight gasp.

“Oh. Well, um…” She was caught in this tense, awkward moment, but I didn’t want her pity. Maybe this marriage could be a blessing. I’d get away from his mental abuse, at least.

“Come see me in my office after you hang that up.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the room.

“Sorry,” the seamstress said as she helped me out of the gown.

Pity. Just what I didn’t want. It would do me no good, anyway. I didn’t reply, acting like I hadn’t heard her low murmur, and quickly dressed in my office wear again before heading to speak with my father.

Given the last-minute manner that he told me I was getting married, I dreaded to think of what other afterthoughts he’d neglected to tell me.

I closed the door to his office and waited, standing with my hands clasped in front of me. A docile, dutiful daughter. That was the persona I projected, but in my heart, I trembled for more bad news.

“Any thoughts on your marriage?” he asked.

I blinked, not quick enough to mask my surprise. He was asking for my opinion? Did he actually want to know? It was impossible.

“Do you have any thoughts about your marriage?” He wasn’t repeating that question with a firmer, more impatient tone to hear me tell him that I didn’t want it to happen. That I wished I could marry for love, not duty.

“I’m nervous.” All I could do was speak the truth. “But I will see it through if that is what you wish.”

He nodded, stroking his beard.

“I believe this marriage will be a mistake.”

He huffed, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “It will not be a mistake. Regardless, you are to do as expected. You will marry the heir to the Valkov Bratva. You will bear him a son.”

I swallowed hard, afraid of that. My main concerns were how that consummation would occur. Losing my protected virginity to a rough man like Andrey scared me, but he didn’t want to hear about it. I had no one to talk to. No one to seek comfort from. My mother died right after my birth, and no woman in the family had ever stepped in as a maternal figure I could rely upon.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” In the back of my mind, I screamed for the opposite. I resisted the urge to ask if there was any other way to secure this alliance.

“I can’t hear you.”

I cleared my throat and raised my voice to more than a whisper. “Yes, sir.”

“After the wedding, I expect you to report back to me.”

What? I furrowed my brow before I caught myself and resumed a blank expression. “Report to you?”

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