Page 10 of Forced & Knocked-Up Bratva Bride

My breath ceased at the thought of what Nik would do to me.

I absently chewed on my nails, feeling my own pulse quickening by the second. His problem was with my father, so why did he have to drag me into this? And most importantly, what was his game here? What was he playing at?

I scratched the back of my head, my eyes roaming the opulent space designed to keep me boxed in. I’d tried multiple times to get the door open, but it was locked from the outside, making sure I had no business leaving this room. I hadn’t had anything to eat since I woke up here. But right now, food was the least of my problems; it was the last thing on my mind. At the moment, all I could think about was how to escape this place—how to get as far away from here as my legs could carry me.

The only problem was that I had no idea where “here” was. I didn’t even know what the rest of the house looked like outside the four walls of this room.

Panic was about to set in. My fear was almost taking over, but I wouldn’t let it. I refused to allow my emotions to cloud my thinking. My dad would always say,“Fear is for the weak, and weakness gets you killed.”I couldn’t be ruled by fear. No.

I was my father’s daughter, and Romano blood coursed through my veins. There was no room for fear, no reason to panic. And the best way to frustrate my captor was to prove to him that I wasn’t one he could so easily break.

I wouldn’t allow him to control me because if I did that, he’d have the upper hand; he’d own me. I was nobody’sproperty, nobody’s object to own—never was and never would be.

Nik may be strong and powerful, but I refused to be afraid of him. I refused to give in to my fear, to be ruled by it. And if I had any chance at surviving this—whatever “this” was—then bravery needed to be my new armor.

I was still pacing back and forth when I heard the front door unlock. My heart stopped for a moment, my head turning toward the entrance. I braced myself, my jaw clenching as I watched the door creak open. My attention was fixed on the newcomer, the soft sound of their shoes clicking against the marble floor.

Of course, it was him, Nik.

The rich scent of his cologne filled the air, commanding my attention. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his pants, while his impeccably tailored black suit clung to his muscles. As he walked into the room, his slow and calculated footsteps quickened my pulse, and his intimidating gaze was locked on my face.

Subtly, I swallowed, clenching my fingers into fists as if to still myself for this encounter with my captor. I steadied my heartbeat, determined to keep him in the dark about the fear his presence had stirred up within me.

The closer he drew to me, the tenser I became, and the harder it was to manage my emotions. Yet, maintaining a blank expression was the only way to defend myself against him. I mustered a frown, deep creases lining my forehead as I cast him an evil eye.

Unaffected by my scowl or the intensity of my gaze, he kept a straight face, his expression unreadable. His calmness and the confidence his stance exuded were enough to make me feel less like myself—enough to make me lose my composure. But I wouldn’t let him see how much of an effect he had on me.

He halted in front of me, his blue eyes, cold and hollow, boring into mine. His imposing height loomed over me, dominating the space between us. I felt diminished in his shadows, even smaller in his presence, as though I barely existed. It was almost as if I were staring up at a giant’s face, and I could feel my own puny courage slowly abandoning me.

His eyes swept over my body, lingering just long enough to make the judgment in his gaze unmistakable. He looked down at me with a superiority he didn’t even bother to hide, and that made my blood boil with anger.

“Have you come to gloat?” I questioned, my voice laced with disdain, eyes blazing red. “Have you come to check on your trophy?” I crossed my arms, my gaze pinned on him.

“You have fire in your eyes,” he said, his voice calm and gentle, yet tinged with a hint of menace. Nik drew closer, his expression still unreadable. “How long do you think it’ll take me to snuff out that little flame of yours?”

I paused for a second, bracing myself for my own response. “In case you’ve forgotten, let me remind you who I am.” My scowl deepened, my tone low and even. “I’m a Romano. We don’t scare easily. So, if this is an attempt to put the fear of God in me, then you’re gonna have to try harder.”

His lips twitched at the corners, his expression softening ever so slightly and just for a fleeting moment. Nik stepped forward, his gaze locked on mine, and as scary as his look was, I refused to break eye contact. He took another step forward, but I still didn’t move, even though I could feel my heart pounding like a drum.

Nik drew closer, and the air was thick with tension, my breath hitching with each step he took. Reflexively, I found myself withdrawing from him, and I didn’t even realize it until my back hit a wall. My eyes were still locked to his, and now, I could feel his breath on my face; he was way too close.

His hand extended, palm resting on the wall as he gazed into my eyes. My body stiffened at a cold touch that glided along my skin. I was so distracted that it took me a moment to realize it was a blade. My eyes widened subtly as the sharp tip traced up my collarbone, light, gentle, and deliberate.

In that instant, an abrupt gasp escaped me, and my breath stuttered, betraying my composure.

A self-satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in, eyes boring into mine. “I thought you didn’t scare easily,” he whispered, his breath on my skin, his tone tinged with mockery. “Why are you shaking at the sight of a little knife?” he murmured, delicately sliding the blade up toward my throat.

I froze in shock, knowing that at that moment, whether I lived or died was entirely up to him to decide.

He held the knife to my throat, his eyes never leaving mine, even for a second. Nik leaned in closer, the knife’s edge grazing my skin. “Do you know what true power is, little Romano?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

I swallowed, struggling to catch my breath.

He stared at me and continued, “It’s the ability to dictate the value of a life. You see, power isn’t just about dominance.” He clicked his tongue contemptuously. “It’s about controlling the scales of life and death, and right now, I’m the one holding the balance.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “All it takes is one move, and I can slit your throat and watch you bleed to death.”

My legs turned to jelly, and my heart raced as my body stiffened. Yet, I struggled to mask my fear. I swallowed hard, refusing to look away despite the way his eyes darkened.

Nik lifted a strand of my hair between his fingers, let the blade hover for a second, and then sliced clean through. A lock of honey-blonde fell in his grip, and his lips curled into a self-satisfied grin. He saw the fear flickering in my eyes, hence his annoying smirk.

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