Page 33 of Forced Innocent Bride By the Bratva

That instant, the guards sprang into action, rushing over to restrain Sean as he pounded against the glass over and over, cursing at me.

“You bastard!” he barked, struggling against the men as they forced him back into the chair.

All the while, I remained calm and unfazed, my signature smirk perched on my lips. I watched him struggle, raining curses and threatening to end me. Oh, I loved messing with the O’Sullivans!

I turned over to Scarlett, my hand snapping out to trail a finger down the nape of her neck, and my eyes shifted back to Sean. A small, mocking smile played on my lips, a gentle reminder of the truth none of us could deny: She was mine now.

Scarlett was shaking like a leaf, her body rejecting my touch, uncomfortable by my action. She sprang to her feet and tried to jerk away, but I was quick to grasp her wrist before she could take a step further.

“Sit,” I said to her, my tone soft yet laced with authority.

She hesitated for a moment, but eventually, she complied, lowering her head in embarrassment.

I needed Sean to see the extent to which I could control his beloved daughter—the kind of power I had over her. He needed to be reminded of who the hell was in charge here. The O’Sullivans were in the palm of my hands, and I was the one who could decide their fate. I needed that fact to sink into Sean’s thick skull.

He sat on the other side, his eyes blazing with rage, but there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. Sean was trapped, defenseless, with no one coming to save him from me.

“This is all on you, O’Sullivan,” I said to him, my tone calm and smooth. “You should have done the right thing when Liam crossed that line.”

His jaw tightened, and his scowl deepened. “I’d like to speak with my daughter now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I leaned forward, staring right into those red-rimmed eyes of his. “Rephrase your statement,” I demanded.

His fingers curled into a fist, and his face turned crimson, a lone vein lining his forehead.

My eyes bore deeper into his, my expression dark and menacing. “Go ahead, O’Sullivan. Say it.”

His hands trembled with anger, and his eyes misted like his daughter’s as he struggled to accept defeat. It was meaningless to fight. I’d already won this battle. I was in control here.Me.

His throat wobbled as he finally swallowed his pride, his voice faint and weak. “I’d like to speak with your wife now.”

My lips curled into a sly, triumphant grin as I reclined in my chair. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If given a gun right now, Sean would put a fucking bullet through my skull without a moment of hesitation. That was how much he hated me. I, on the other hand, didn’t give two shits about how he felt about me. His hatred and that of his ridiculously attractive daughter meant nothing to me. In fact, I loved it; I loved that they loathed me. I loved the fury I stirred up within them.

I turned toward Scarlett, savoring the disdain in her eyes, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.

The fact that I could control their emotions meant that I could control their behavior—their lives. What was more fun than that?

Chapter 20 – Scarlett

“Tell me, did that bastard lay a hand on ye?” Dad asked me, his Irish accent strong in his voice.

I gripped the phone tightly against my ear, my hand trembling as images of Daniel doing more than laying a hand on me flooded my mind. Dad demanded the truth, believing that his rival had mistreated me or physically assaulted me.

How could I bring myself to tell him that Daniel never exhibited any form of violence toward me? How did I tell him that I slept with Daniel Tarasov, and I wasn’t even under duress or the influence of any substance?

My heart was racing in my chest, anxiety washing over me as I struggled to get my shit together. Dad was a very observant and highly cynical person, and it wouldn’t take him long to put the pieces together if I continued to shy away from him.

“Scarlett,” he called softly, his head tilting to the side, trying to catch my eyes. “Talk to me, honey. Don’t be afraid.”

I stole a glance over my shoulder, my gaze meeting with Daniel’s for a fleeting moment. The cocky bastard had a smirk on his lips, arms across his chest. He stared at me in wonder, patiently waiting for my response.

My brows furrowed, forming deep lines on my forehead as I glared at him, cursing him in my mind. I hated Daniel so much that I would drive a stake through his fucking heart if I had the chance. But the cold-hearted son of a bitch clearly didn’t have one. He was heartless, evil, and he should be the one behind that partition, not my Dad.

I turned to my father, my lips twitching, quivering as I struggled to muster a smile. A plastic one. “I’m…I’m okay, Dada.”

“‘tis not what I asked ye,” he said, his brogue cutting deep, accentuating the solemnity of his tone. “Did he lay a hand on ye?” Dad repeated, his eyes narrowing in concern.

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