Page 3 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva (Yezhov Bratva #8)

The room smelled like old wood, cigar smoke, and anxiety.

We gathered in the smaller study hidden behind the panel walls of the Yezhov estate. It was large enough to contain only the male members of the Yezhov family, and every decision was made in this room, no matter how good or bad.

Rurik was already present when I got there, slouching in a leather chair like he hadn’t slept for days. He hadn’t shaved. His shirt was rumpled, and he looked a hot fucking mess.

The glass on the coffee table next to him was empty, but he still reeked of whiskey and cigar.

Damien leaned against the windowsill, arms crossed, with his face as expressionless as ever.

Eduard sat at the bar, opening and closing a silver lighter over and over, flame flickering but never steady.

Isaak was on the phone, half-listening, as always.

“Is this the look of grief?” I asked as I entered the room.

Rurik didn’t look up. “You can keep your judgment for later, Matvey. You don’t know what it is to lose a wife.”

I closed the door behind me with a sharp snap. “No. But I do know what it’s like to watch someone slowly kill the woman they were supposed to protect.”

His head jerked up at that. Bloodshot eyes, clenched jaw. “Don’t you dare.”

“Then don’t pretend,” I replied bluntly, moving around him to the head of the table. I took a seat and gazed down the length of it, eyes fastened on the others as they trickled in and the muted murmurs started.

Business as usual.

Yulia was hardly in the ground, and already, everyone had moved on to what they considered more important, as if she weren’t a member of this family.

“I’ve been getting calls,” Eduard said finally, stepping forward. “Carter’s people are doing the rounds. Word is, they’re considering pulling out of the Moscow project.”

“And the arms shipment,” Damien said. “We were going to use Carter’s docks. That deal fell silent.”

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, making myself remain motionless. “And this is happening because the link to our alliance is gone?”

That link was Yulia.

Isaak pocketed his phone. “No one says it aloud, but yeah. The wedding was what kept everything together. She’s dead, so they figure the link is as well.”

Rurik growled. “Bastards. They’ve been making money off of us for years. One funeral, and now they wish to renegotiate?”

“Because her death made the alliance useless,” I replied with my voice lowered, cutting through the warmth in the room. “They have no reason to want to continue whatever deal they made with us.”

An awkward silence followed as if no one in the room had already thought of this. It was common sense. We secured that alliance with marriage. Now that the Carter who joined our family was dead, the alliance was invalid.

I reclined in my chair and folded my arms. I should have been considering cover stories and cargo runs. Foreign enemies and St. Petersburg pressure. But all I could think about was her—Zoella.

How she stood at the funeral, motionless and quiet, her eyes broken like glass. The way she looked at me with no glimpse of fear in those pretty blue eyes.

I didn’t want her, but that was the lie I had been telling myself for a while now. I was insanely drawn to her like a predator to prey. She’d managed to occupy my thoughts since the first time we met.

But I’d stayed away from her.

She was too young. Too soft. Too damn American.

But then this wasn’t about whether or not I was drawn to her or whether I was willing to have her. Just like her sister, she was exactly what we needed: a Carter pawn we could use for our own gain.

If we had her, then the Carters would have no reason to seek alliance with any of the other families.

That was just an excuse, though, because what I cared about the most was that I could finally make her mine.

I bent forward and put my hands on the table.

“We mend the alliance,” I said to him. “We need to do it now, before the Carters go crawling to someone else.”

Damien narrowed his eyes. “How?”

I stared straight at him. “I’ll marry Zoella.”

The room fell silent.

Isaak blinked.

Eduard stopped fidgeting.

Rurik sat up straight in his chair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s simple.” I met every gaze around the table, one by one. “Yulia’s death created a doubt. People think our alliance with the Carters is broken. We reinforce it. I take the younger sister. Publicly. Legally. We show the world nothing’s changed; if anything, our grip has tightened.”

Rurik pounded his glass on the table. “She’s not like us, Matvey. She’s not even built for this world.”

I didn’t blink. “Neither was Yulia, but you had her anyway.”

“And look how that ended,” he snapped.

I slowly nodded my head, stopping the rage in my chest from bubbling any further. “You’re in no position to remark on how it ended. You treated her like shit all five months you guys were married. Luckily, I don’t plan on treating her sister the same way.”

He looked away.

Damien coughed, breaking the tension. “Zoella…won’t agree to this quietly. You’ve all seen the girl. She’s fiercer and more cunning than her sister.”

“She won’t have the option,” I replied matter-of-factly.

“You’re suggesting a forced marriage,” Isaak stammered, as though the words might break the table.

“I’m proposing preservation.” I stood then, pushing the sleeves of my jacket. “You sit here talking about losing influence, deals collapsing, and I’m presenting you with an answer. Accept it or don’t.”

Eduard settled back against the bar and exhaled smoke into the air. “And what’s your payoff in this?”

My gaze snapped to him. “This is business and nothing more.”

He thought for a while and then gave an approving nod. “It’s a good idea.”

Everyone else in the room glanced at each other, but no one dared to utter a word in disagreement. Not to Eduard, and definitely not to me. Not even Rurik; he just sat quietly with his eyes dark and fixed on something on the floor.

I looked at the others. “Set up a meeting as soon as possible. The more time passes, the easier it’ll be for the alliance to slip through our fingers.”

Or maybe I was now even more desperate to make Zoella mine. Soon, she’d be lying on my bed, bearing my last name with my ring on her finger.

I could tell with everything in me that she hated my family, and my lips quirked as I imagined her reaction to finding out she would be my wife.

She had no idea what was coming to her.