Page 21 of Brutal Bratva’s Owned Hostage

“It worked, didn’t it?”

It had. And apparently it was working again, because within twenty minutes I’d stopped thinking about the whole sudden marriage situation, my focus narrowed down to the cards in my hand. Well, and the way Dmitri studied me across the table.

This time felt different from the last. Less teasing, more patience, like he was genuinely trying to teach me something rather than simply distract me. He walked me through reading betting patterns, showed me how a person’s whole posture changed depending on the strength of their hand, explained that most of what he did across a poker table wasn’t luck at all but a careful observation of everyone sitting across from him.

“Watch the shoulders,” he said, nodding toward an imaginary opponent as he dealt another round. “Most people think the face is where the tell lives. It’s not. The face is the first thing everyone learns to control. The shoulders, the way someone breathes when they’re about to bet big, that takes years to fake convincingly, if anyone even bothers trying.”

“So you’ve spent your whole life reading shoulders.”

“Among other things.” He glanced up, something amused flickering behind his eyes. “Yours go stiff right before you bluff. It’s the opposite of most people. You get more confident-looking when you’re lying.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It’s completely true. You did it twice in the last ten minutes.” His smirk moved into a small smile, clearly enjoying having caught me at something I hadn’t noticed myself doing. “Careful. If you ever play against anyone who actually knows what they’re doing, that’s the first thing they’ll clock.”

“You’re the only person I’m ever going to play against, so I think I’m safe.”

“You are.” Something in his tone made the comment land heavier than the joke probably intended, and I didn’t ask him to clarify what he meant by it.

“You’re not gambling,” I said slowly, getting it now as I watched him fold a hand he clearly could have won. “You’re reading people. The cards are not the point.”

“Exactly.”

I thought about that. He’d spent his whole life reading people for exactly this reason, cataloging tells and patterns because his survival depended on knowing who was lying. It made a strange kind of sense that a man who lived like that would eventually learn to read me too, would notice when I stopped eating or flinched at a car alarm or pretended I was fine when I wasn’t.

During the third hand, I won.

Not by much, and not through any particular skill, just one decent bluff I’d apparently pulled off more convincingly than I expected. But the surprise on his face was real, brief and genuine.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said, though he was smiling when he said it.

“Or I’m just better than you thought.”

“I always knew you were good.”

As the afternoon light shifted toward evening, the conversation between us slowed and became easier.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“What does this actually mean? The marriage. Practically, I mean, not the part where you promised me protection in front of your entire family. What happens to my actual life now?”

“Nothing gets forced on you beyond what keeps you safe. You’re not confined here, Val. You’re not going to wake up one day and find out I’ve isolated you from everyone you care about, or that I expect you to become someone you’re not just because we’re married. The marriage exists to protect you from threats outside these walls. It was never meant to become a threat inside them.”

“You understand why I needed to hear that,” I said, not knowing if it was actually a question.

“I do. I’ve watched enough mafia marriages get twisted into something closer to ownership than partnership. I’m not interested in repeating that pattern with you. I mean, none of my brothers repeated that pattern. I wouldn’t dare hope to have what they do, but I can make you feel safe.”

“What about the parts I don’t understand yet? The politics, the way your brothers look at me, the entire structure of this world I apparently married into without a manual.”

“You’ll learn it as you need to. I’m not going to bury you in all of it at once just because the wedding happened. My sisters-in-law will help when you want it. The rest of it, the deeper politics, the parts that took me decades to understand fully, none of that needs to land on you overnight.”

“That’s oddly considerate.”

“I contain multitudes,” he said, and the dry delivery of it startled a laugh out of me despite everything.

It didn’t erase the fear in my chest, but it softened it enough that I let myself lean into the moment instead of bracing against it.