Page 5 of Bribed & Bred By the BRATVA
“Of course.” I brush my fingertips over her chin, dragging my thumb to her collarbone. “Nothing I do is left to chance.”
Her eyes close at the touch. A shiver runs through her.
I let my fingers linger for a beat, then drop them. “Dinner will be in an hour.”
I leave her there, standing in the doorway with the ring flashing on her finger, and return to the silence of the main room.
Through the glass, the pool lies still, reflecting the first scatter of stars. I pour a drink I don’t taste. My chest is tight with the hunger of patience. I could have taken her already. She would have yielded because there was no choice.
But the first time matters. The first time sets the tone. When I take her, it won’t feel like a bargain. It will feel like inevitability. And she will crave it just as much as I do.
She’ll learn soon enough. I am safety. I am power. I am fate.
Isabella
The house is too quiet. Even the air feels heavy, like it’s holding its breath.
I keep telling myself I don’t belong here. I’m not the kind of woman who lives in glass-walled houses with silent hallways and pools that shine blue against the night. I’m a girl who scrubs floors, who comes home to wallpaper peeling in the corners and a fridge that groans like it’s dying. This place doesn’t fit me.
And yet, here I am.
Married.
The word sticks in my throat like it’s too big to swallow. I can feel the weight of the ring every time I move my hand. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it, waiting for it to vanish. But it doesn’t. It flashes in the light, a shard of proof that none of this is a dream.
I tell myself I’m only here because of Mateo. Because his surgery was instantly booked the second I looked at the handsome, dangerous stranger. That’s all this is. That’s all it can be.
Gratitude burns through me, sharp and dangerous. I don’t want to feel it, but it’s there, threading itself through my veins, knotting itself to him.
I step to the glass doors that overlook the pool. The water lies flat and still, reflecting the stars. My hands press against the cool surface, my breath fogging the glass.
I whisper the lie I’ve been telling myself since the second I climbed into the car.I’m only here for Mateo. I’m only here for Mateo.
The sound of footsteps makes my chest tighten. I don’t need to turn to know it’s him.
“Dinner is here. Come and eat.”
His voice is smooth. Commanding. He doesn’t ask if I’m hungry. He doesn’t wait for my agreement. It’s a statement, like gravity or the weather.
When I turn, he’s framed in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled, shadows cutting across his jaw. He holds out his hand for me to take as the smell of steak and fresh vegetables makes its way down the hallway.
“I’m not hungry,” I whisper. But I don’t know why or what point I’m trying to prove.
His eyes narrow. “Lies don’t work on me.”
He takes my hand and pulls me toward the dining room. “Sit.”
I hesitate for half a heartbeat. Then I sit. My stomach growls as I try to remember the last time I ate a proper meal that wasn’t microwaved from frozen
The first bite burns my tongue, but I don’t care. I eat quickly, shame rising with every mouthful, because I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until now.
He watches me the whole time. The weight of his attention is constant, pressing down on me, cataloguing me. It should feel suffocating, but it doesn’t. It feels like the first time in years someone has actually seen me.
Halfway through, I slow, fork paused halfway to my mouth. My cheeks flush under his stare.
“Why me?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
His gaze is unflinching. “Because you’re strong enough to bend without breaking. Because no one else will come for you. And because I decided.”
