Page 26 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
Chapter 10 - Victoria
Every second I spend in the back of the Range Rover with Roman feels more torturous than the last. And yet, there’s nowhere I can go. Nowhere I can turn to for relief.
As the driver takes us away from the house, I can still feel the warmth of his palms against my thighs, along with the jolt it sends through me. I don’t even want to admit how it shook me up, but those sensations persist anyway.
Not to mention, my chest is still tight with irritation, as it seems to always be around Roman. He has a way of spiking that response in me, no matter what he’s saying or how he tries to speak to me.
I was convinced my fighting would turn him off and help him see I’m not worth the hassle of keeping me around, but it seems he’s unwilling to accept that fact.
Roman’s too busy believing he’s the right one in this situation. That he’s being the good guy.
Stewing over it only makes me feel worse, but it’s so hard to think of anything other than all the reasons I have to be angry with him.
Trying to force it out of my mind, I stare out the window and watch as the city moves around us, littered with giant neon signs and all the temptations Vegas has to offer.
I’m not one to find those things all that tempting, but even so, it provides me with enough of a distraction to help the drive pass.
Even if I try to keep my gaze out the window, I can’t help but catch glimpses of him in the corner of my eye, able to seehow he lounges in the seat beside me like he owns the very air I’m breathing.
Keeping my legs together and angled away from him, I try to force as much distance between us as I can, regardless of how intimate the back seat feels.
Strip malls, gas stations, pawn shops, and other storefronts move by us; in a way, it all reeks of desperation. Las Vegas is, unfortunately, uglier in the daytime, regardless of its nighttime counterpart. It’s too exposed and vulnerable, and not at all in its element.
In a way, that’s how I feel, too, and I hate it.
Pulling in a slow breath, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I glance over at Roman, even if only briefly. “Where are we going?”
He idly scrolls through his phone, not pulling his eyes away from it. He gives me a vaguely bored tone, or perhaps, slightly irritated.
“We’re seeing my family.”
My heart freezes in my chest. “What?”
“You heard me. They want to meet you.”
Furrowing my brows at that, I let my eyes rest on him a moment longer while I try to conceptualize that idea.
They want to meet me…like I’m some girlfriend of his? The thought seems ridiculous until the realization sets in…the reality is even worse than that. I’m his wife. I never even had the chance to be a girlfriend in the first place.
His words echo in my head, and I can’t wrap my mind around how insane it sounds. How he’s saying it like this is anormal introductory dinner and not a result of him kidnapping me and taking over my entire life.
I blink back at him. “Why would they want to meet me?”
His expression is far too neutral. Too casual. “Because you’re with me now…my family is important to me, and whoever is with me is also with them.”
How…cozy of him.
“Do you have anything for yourself?” I ask pointedly, heavy-handed with the sarcasm.
Roman shrugs. “Some things, sure. But a wife? That’s not something I’m keeping hidden from them.”
It’s not necessarily something I expected him to do, but it still feels strange for some reason. It feels too fast, just like everything else.
“And do they know the truth?”
“The intricacies of this arrangement? Yes, of course, they do. They know everything that happens in this business. They are a part of it, after all.”
So they’re all like him. Great.
