Page 15 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
He would either force her to marry me or persuade her to do so. Either way, she’d be mad at his willingness to trade her for his fortune. The girl might agree to my terms, but she’d hate her father for life. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
Marrying the girl was more than just revenge; it was a means to assume partial or total control of her family’s assetsunder the guise of a “marital merger.” This union was a silent takeover, cloaked in legitimacy. It was far cleaner than seizing assets by force.
“Lev,” a familiar voice yanked me out of my thoughts. “Lev, are you with me?”
It was Vlad, a Bratva associate of mine.
I blinked back to the present, my gaze settling on him as he sat across from me, cradling a glass of whiskey. Beside him was my younger brother, Viktor, busy making out with two strippers on the couch.
“You haven’t touched your drink,” Vlad said to me, his voice thick with a Russian accent. “You should be celebrating your victory against Robert Jensen and his crazy-ass daughter.” He laughed, sipping from his glass.
I wasn’t sure why, but his casual jab about the Jensen girl didn’t sit well with me. As subtle as his insult was, it made my blood boil; no one else got to speak ill of the girl but me.
My expression darkened, but I didn’t respond to him.
“The situation with the Jensen family is bad, Lev,” he continued, oblivious to how close he’d come to having his jaw broken. “They’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. Poor Robert, that unfortunate bastard, his last shipment was hijacked on the highway three hours ago. Clean job. No survivors in the convoy, no product recovered.”
I leaned forward, lifted my glass, and took a sip, savoring the vodka in my mouth.
That shipment was Robert’s last hope. It wouldn’t have done much, but it would’ve been enough to settle at least one or two of his other creditors. Now, it was gone, and he was left with nothing—at the mercy of sharks in suits, ready to rip him to shreds.
Robert was in real deep shit; his other creditors would come for him at any moment, wild and dangerous. Supplierswouldn’t listen to him. Lenders were already slamming their doors, and his name in the market was now poison.
There was no way out of this—unless, of course, he bent the knee and accepted my generous offer. He had nothing left to bargain with. Absolutely nothing.
Vlad drained his glass then set it down with a softclink. “The man’s as good as dead. He’s finished, and all that’s left is who gets the bone.”
My lips curled into a mischievous, self-satisfied smirk as I swirled my vodka once, slow and deliberate. Raising the glass to my lips, I took a measured sip and leaned back into the couch.
“Brother,” Viktor called, finally dismissing his strippers. “Your wisdom is unprecedented. The way you handled the Jensen family is nothing short of excellent.” He laughed, spanking a stripper’s ass. “That stupid whore thought she could humiliate me and get away with it? Bitch, please.”
My grip tightened around my glass, eyes narrowing at Viktor as I clenched my jaw to control my rage. I shot him a stern glare with a scowl deep enough to scare the hell out of him.
Fear flickered in his eyes as he swallowed hard, knowing full well that he’d crossed a line. Beneath the terror in his gaze was a glint of confusion as to why I was so upset over someone as insignificant as Ravyn Jensen.
I wondered the same thing deep down, but I told myself it was nothing. No one else had the right to make silly or demeaning jokes about her. No one but me. This wasn’t Viktor’s case anymore; it was mine, and everyone knew I didn’t like to share my prey.
Time was running out, and in a few hours from now, I was certain that she’d agree to be my wife. The question remained: Would she do it with that signature fire in her eyes, or tears on her cheeks?
Chapter 7 —Ravyn
I tried to find another way out of this by seeking help from charity organizations and some humanitarian family friends. All I encountered were rejection, excuses, and outright refusal to be part of the Jensen family's misfortune. Everyone I went to for help slammed their doors in my face—figuratively, of course.
After trying so hard, I realized that help was coming from nowhere. I was my father’s only way out of this mess. That devil incarnate, Lev, had sat down and carefully orchestrated his plan to frustrate me and my dad.
He left us with no other choice, no other option, and I hated him for that. I loathed him with every fiber of my being because that was the only thing that I could do. The man was used to getting whatever he wanted; he was used to having his way. Despite all my efforts, I’d end up as just another one of his wins—his trophy.
The mere thought of being that monster’s wife made my blood boil. I’d dated his younger brother and regretted it—hell, that was the reason I was in this mess in the first place. Now he was forcing me to marry him. What a twisted son of a bitch!
Viktor was an idiot, yes, but he shouldn't be okay with this; he should oppose the marriage and speak some sense to his older brother. Did he have no dignity or pride at all?
At this point, I’d do anything not to be married into that family. I’d give up anything—anything but my father. I couldn’t bring myself to choose my future, seeing how screwed up his life already was.
Even if, for some reason, Lev Tarasov didn’t take his life, someone else would. Dad’s other creditors were already threatening to take matters into their own hands. And with how rapidly the situation had escalated within the last forty-eight hours, things could get ugly at any moment from now.
We’d run out of time, and although Dad hadn’t pressured me into taking the deal, his silence and his eyes were constantly pleading with me to do so. I was my father’s saving grace—his hope at making it out of this in one piece.
These creditors were wolves, and he was a sheep; they’d devour him without breaking a sweat. What’s at stake here wasn’t just my father’s life; it was the Jensen family’s future—the whole lineage. These monsters wouldn’t mind wiping us all from the face of the earth if they had to.
