Page 81 of Forced By an Obsessive Bratva Stalker

This was not how I thought my life was going to turn out. I thought I had it all figured out. I had the roadmap to achieving my goals, and I was working really hard to make a name for myself.

Until everything fell apart when I stumbled upon that incident at Meridian Solutions.

I curse the day I stepped into that building.

I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t realize when I reached the altar. He extended his arm, and I took it; then he helped me up the long steps.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest began, his voice loud and audible. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of…”

My hands were shaking as I stood across from Rodion, tears stinging my eyes. I held still, refusing to break down at a time like this. The last thing I wanted was to draw unwanted attention to myself and be remembered as the bride who wept on her wedding day.

Not that I gave a fuck about any of those unfamiliar faces in the cathedral anyway. A part of me simply didn’t want to embarrass Rodion; I just wanted to get this over and done with.

He noticed my unease and reached out to take my hand. His fingers closed around mine in a way that said he had me without having to say it out loud. Rodion looked into my eyes with a soft expression that somehow managed to calm my nerves by a fraction.

He didn’t say a single word, but his grip and the look in his eyes were more reassuring than I would care to admit.

When it was time for the vows and the priest threw that life-changing question at me, I almost froze. I almost forgot I was supposed to respond.

It wasn’t until Rodion squeezed gently against my fingers and the priest conspicuously cleared his throat that I snapped back to reality.

I blinked once. “I do.”

He faced Rodion, and while repeating the same question to him, his voice slowly faded into the background. I could almost hear the sound of my heart pounding against my ribs, and my breathing suddenly became shallow.

A knot tightened in my chest, and my knees buckled beneath me. I could feel my anxiety spiking like I was about to have a panic attack.

“With the power vested in me…I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest declared. “You may kiss the bride.”

Rodion, realizing how breathless I was, pulled me in, but instead of kissing me on the lips. He planted a small kiss on my forehead. His hand around my waist was strangely comforting, and the longer I stayed in his arms, the calmer I felt.

While the small crowd erupted into a heavy round of applause that filled the air, I stayed there in his arms, wondering how the same man responsible for my pain and anxiety seemed to also be the cure.

He didn’t offer any words of consolation or reassurance, but there was something about the way he held me that I hadn’t fully understood yet. I felt it for the first time, a strange kind of safety and peace in his arms.

How was that even possible?

Everything that had gone wrong in my life over the past few weeks was his fault. Yet in his arms, none of that mattered. Why?

The more I tried to make sense of it, the more I failed to understand it. The one thing that I understood perfectly well, though, was that my fate had been sealed for life now.

I was officially his wife—before God and before man. The minute we were pronounced husband and wife, I ceased to be Aria Bennett. In that moment, his last name was transferred to me, and I became Aria Tarasov.

This was a new chapter of my miserable life, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

Chapter 24 – Rodion

This pregnancy was the perfect excuse to wife her up without hesitation. I’d been thinking of ways to make her stay here permanent, and I achieved that goal without stressing, using the most valid reasons.

She clearly wasn’t okay with being the wife of the same man she claimed was responsible for her mental instability. The man she hated the most in this world. Perhaps I was selfish to want her for myself forever, damning her dreams and aspirations.

But beneath that selfishness were two valid reasons. One—I wanted our baby to be born into a proper family, with present parents to teach them the ways of the world. Two—if word got out that she was carrying my child, she would automatically become the next target of all my enemies.

As my wife, she was a part and parcel of me, and whatever affected her affected me. Whatever affected me affected the Bratva. My last name offered her protection beyond my jurisdiction. The Tarasov men had always protected their women from internal and external threats.

She now had the fierce loyalty and support of everyone affiliated with the family. That, in itself, was wholesome—a fact she had yet to understand and value. She might hate me now, but at some point in the future, when she came to terms with her new reality, she’d finally get it.

Maybe she was right. Maybe all of this was my fault. But making her mine was the best decision I could’ve made in that situation. I didn’t regret it. And I would never regret making her my wife.