Forced to Marry the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #2)

Chapter 5 - Zia

“ Getting married? Are you nuts?”

He was.

He just had to be nuts.

Zia was struggling to breathe. She was out of the stool, pacing the floor with a hand on her chest, going through a made-up list of Twenty Ways To Not Die. A list she had made up herself after she realized that Lev Nikolai might, in fact, be crazy.

The only problem was that, from her list of twenty ways not to die, she’d defaulted all the twenty rules and had found herself in the one spot that needed intervention before she got saved. She had gotten charmed by the stranger’s heroic act, fallen for his charm, slept with him— Oh, God, she slept with him—a nd now she had to deal with the bitter reality that he was cuckoo.

Because what man, who’d only met a woman in less than twenty-four hours, proposed marriage to her?

“You have to stop doing that.”

The smooth timbre of his voice—the very same one she had fallen for—grabbed her attention, and she turned her head to see him pointing at her feet.

“The frequent back-and-forth motion might make me sick,” he added.

And she momentarily stopped, thoroughly shocked that he had managed to fool her with his acts and speeches of sanity.

She raised a brow and jerked back her head, searching around for possible hidden cameras. “Is this a TV show?”

His brows creased, and he wrinkled his nose. “What?”

“Is this a TV show?” she repeated, marching up to him. “Because if it is, I think it’s honestly the cruelest plot twist ever.”

To her amazement, he let out a chuckle. “Are you always this dramatic, or is this because I said we’re getting married?”

Zia forced herself to get past the beautiful sound of his laughter and focus on what was more important: her safety. She shook her head, baffled.

“How do you say it with so much confidence? You don’t even know me, and yet you’re proposing—”

“Ah, no, no, no,” he held up a finger and leaned back with a quirked brow. How could one man be so charming and yet so confusing?

“You’re getting it wrong. You see, I might not know you, but I know me, and I know some filthy scumbags want to get me however they can. The incident at the club last night was no mistake. It was planned. Whoever it was knew I was going to be there at that time, and so they came after me.”

“What does that have to do with me and my work?”

“Everything.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It has everything to do with you, your fucking job, and even the fucking air you are breathing right now, Zia. Did you see me take any other women out of the rubble last night? No. It was just you. Don’t be deceived; you were sighted with me, and that is what changes everything. They’ll think you mean something to me and will not hesitate to go after you, too.”

“God…”

She wanted to collapse to the ground, or better yet, crawl into a hole and hide for a few more years before emerging again. Where had she gotten it all wrong? And most importantly, why did she have the worst luck with men?

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand before trying to speak again. “But… But what does that have to do with my job, huh? Why do I have to stop working?”

“Were you not listening to a word I said?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Or did you just pretend not to hear me?”

“I heard you, okay? It just doesn’t make any sense. Yes, they spotted me with you—whoever these people are. But you know the truth; I’m nothing more than a one-night stand…”

His jaw flexed, but she didn’t give him room to speak.

“…Why can’t you clear the air? Maybe just put it out there that I am not who they think I am, you know? Just get the target off my back so I can return to living my life normally.”

He shook his head, conveying an apology before he said anything.

“I’m sorry, Zia, but you should know that it doesn’t work that way. For now, I don’t know who the attacker is, but I am one hundred percent sure that a rival family caused it. If you’ve been seen with me, that automatically makes you an ally. They will believe that you know something, no matter how small and insignificant that piece of information might be. I can’t just ‘go out there and clear the air’, as you’ve put it. The only thing I can do is protect you.”

“And the only way to do that is by getting married to me?”

Before he responded, Zia held a hand up, brows wrinkled as she struggled to place a finger on something that repeatedly flashed through her mind.

“Wait, give me a second to process this.” She started with the pieces of the scattered puzzle, fixing each point and connecting the dots until it slowly began to make sense. She held his eyes, ignoring the curiosity in them as she listed out piece by piece.

“The explosion, the shootout… Your bodyguard, the gun. The club. Lev Nikolai… You’re Russian.”

His head bobbed up and down, and he looked surprisingly pleased that she caught up fast. “That I am.”

“I mean, it makes sense; the influence, the wealth, and the violence. How could I have been so blind? You’re no ordinary man, so I’ve heard. And somehow, I already knew that a man like you could be dangerous. God, the signs have been there all along.” Zia’s eyes narrowed, her face pale with rage. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” she spat, her voice low and venomous.

His expression remained calm, and not even a flicker of guilt danced in his eyes. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I could be one of anything.”

“Quit playing games. You know I speak of the Bratva. You are one of them, aren’t you?”

The smile on Lev’s face widened, and it told her all she needed to know. She was right.

She shook her head sternly. “No.”

“I don’t believe I asked.”

“No. Fucking. Way,” she spat through gritted teeth. “There is no way I’m getting married to you. I will never agree to have anything to do with you, your family, or anyone associated with that organization.”

He didn’t look pleased with her defiance and courageous rejection of his offer, but she couldn’t care less. Her mother had been very clear with her when she was younger. She told her how her father died, and while she didn’t remember much, there was one particular detail that stood out.

The very reason for his death was because of an indirect association with the mafia.

Zia had looked them up and done her research to get all she needed to know. But the findings remained the same: they ruined everything they touched and protected only themselves. They were everywhere, audacious and untouchable. They had infiltrated the government and the streets. Anyone who dared to cross their paths had to think twice and must have made sure he had just enough power to keep them floating.

But none of those impressed her. Not when her father, whom she’d never known, had died at their mercy.

Putting her feet down, she glared at him, hoping that the daggers she aimed went past his tough skin and hit him in a sore spot.

“You are nothing but trouble, Mr. Nikolai. So, I’m sorry for bursting your bubble—or maybe I’m not sorry. But there will be no marriage between you and me.”

The smile vanished from his face, his eyes glinting with a cold intensity. He kicked back his stool, the legs scraping the floor, and strode toward her. Her eyes widened, sensing the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Again, I didn’t ask, Malyshka. We are getting married tonight, and that is final.”