Page 73 of Savage Bratva King

“Hey, that’s not the reaction I expected. You’re a fighter, Gianna. If anyone can make it work, you can.”

“It isn’t that.” Adrenaline, disappointment, the looming prospect of returning to reality, these things are all rushing through my veins and making my heartbeat feel like the dull thud-thud-thud of heavy stones inside my chest. “It’s my father. He would never agree to me working with?—”

“With me?”

Of course, he already thought this through. But not even Leonid Ivanov will sway my father on this one.

“He would have no say in the matter if you were running the refuge with your husband.”

“Seamus?” I shake my head and pull away from his strong arms. It feels wrong to mention my fiancé while my body is pressed up against Leo. “Seamus would never… Why would you even suggest it?”

Does he want me to go through with the arranged marriage? Is this Leo’s way of getting rid of me, by bribing me with my own refuge when I can still feel him inside me from last night?

“No, Gianna, not Seamus. I’m talking about me.”

“You?” It comes out as a high-pitched squeak, and I wish I could take it back, but my brain has given up trying to keep up with this turn of events. “I-I don’t… I mean… I don’t know what … is going on here.”

Leonid takes my hands in his. “I realize this is probably the most unromantic marriage proposal in history, and this isn’t how I would’ve wanted to propose to you. I mean, I don’t even have a ring, but well, like I said, the two propositions go hand in hand and…” His voice trails off when the look of utter shock on my face sinks in. “You could manage the refuge as my wife.”

“Your wife?”

Excitement and joy and more excitement ripples through my veins, being quietly tampered down and suppressed by the fear that he is doing this for all the wrong reasons. I come from a mafia family. I know how these things work, especially for the daughters. And I’m frightened to acknowledge the very real probability that love hasn’t played even a tiny part in this unexpected proposal.

“I know I’ve sprung this on you without warning,” he continues, “and I don’t expect you to give me an answer immediately. But I know it would make you happy, and I want to make you happy, Gianna.”

I avert my eyes. I get a rush of warmth from these words. I know that he wants me as much as I want him; I’m not completely naïve. But he still hasn’t mentioned the word ‘love’. My head is yelling at me to ask him outright: do you love me? But my heart is counter attacking withI shouldn’t have to ask.

If he loved me, he would tell me, right?

“I don’t know.” I swallow the tears clogging my throat and behind my eyes. “I need time to think about it. My father…”

“Once we’re married, there’s nothing he can do about it, Gianna. You’ll be mine. You’ll be free to run a refuge or travel around the world or rescue dogs if that’s what you want. I will never stop you from doing whatever makes you happy. I promise.”

I’m not paying attention. I’m stuck on the word ‘free’ because I’m not free to do whatever I want. Whatever Leonid says, I’m still a prisoner in his house. I’m not even allowed to call my sister—the one person who could give me the advice I need right now.

“I’ll think about it.” I don’t meet his eyes. “I’m going to stay in the guest room tonight.”

I walk back to the house, and I don’t look behind me.

* * *

I toss and turn all night. I eat supper in my room, brought to me by Tamara, and curl up beneath the comforter imagining Leo lying next to me. How is it possible to miss someone you hardly know so much? I miss his heat, his kisses, his tongue between my legs. I feel as though I’ve instinctively raised a barrier between us, and it breaks my heart to think that the dogs, and the maze, and picnics by the pond are all on his side of the wall.

Marrying him without my father’s permission would be like sticking a middle finger up at my family and all that my father has done for me since my mom died.

Marrying him without Mel would feel like an even bigger betrayal.

Mel knows everything there is to know about me. Apart from this. But I spend the night alternating between Mel’s disappointment when she discovers that I married a mafia boss in secret, and my disappointment that my family hasn't tried to free me.

Even if I don’t agree to marry Leo, though, how can I marry Seamus now, or anyone else for that matter? Seamus is expecting to marry a virgin. It’s part of the contract.

But more importantly, I can’t imagine being married to anyone else. I would climb into bed beside my husband and think of Leo. When we kiss, it would be Leo’s lips I’m imagining. When we have sex, it will be Leo I can feel inside me. Because the truth is, he set out to corrupt me, and instead, he has left his imprint on me that no one else will ever be able to erase.

My head is fuzzy when I wake up like my brain cells are wrapped in cotton wool. I dress and eat breakfast in the guest room. Alone. It makes me feel uneasy how comfortable I felt sharing Leo’s bed and staying in his room; staying in the guest room without him is like sleeping on the floor without a blanket and with all the windows open.

Cold and lonely.

Will he expect an answer today?

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