Page 100 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva

It’s not rough or urgent like before. This one is slow, tender, full of emotion he’s never been able to say out loud. His lips tremble against mine, and I feel the way his shoulders shudder as he kisses me like he’s grounding himself. Like this moment,me, is the only real thing he’s sure of right now.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he breathes.

And for once, I don’t want him to.

He tries to lift me, and I whimper in pain. He freezes, and his body tenses suddenly. I feel it before I see it—something primal rippling through him.

He growls low in his throat and pulls away from me, stalking toward Yegor’s lifeless body. And then, without warning, he raises his gun and starts firing.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Each shot echoes like thunder in the warehouse, the force of his rage shaking through the air. He keeps shooting, over and over again, long after Yegor is dead.

“Adrian!” I gasp, my voice cracking, terrified at the way his fury explodes out of him.

He finally stops, breathing hard, gun still raised and smoking. Then, as if something snaps back into place, his eyes fly to me. Horror flashes across his face.

He drops the gun.

“I’m sorry,” he says, rushing back to me. His hands are shaking as he touches my face. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

But I’m not afraid of him. Not now. Not anymore.

I place my hand gently on his cheek, feeling the rough stubble, the warmth of his skin, the emotion trembling under the surface. “I love you, Adrian,” I whisper.

He stills. His eyes widen, searching mine. “Say that again.”

“I love you.”

A breath leaves him in a choked laugh, and then he’s smiling—really smiling—and it’s a beautiful, broken thing.

“You’re more dangerous than anyone I’ve ever killed,” he murmurs, his voice soft, reverent. “Because now you have the one thing no one’s ever had.”

He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, both of us breathing each other in like we’re oxygen.

“My heart,” he says. “You have my fucking heart, Jennie. And I love you more than I love my own life.”

Before I can respond, we hear sudden sounds—shouts, fast footsteps, chaos crashing in from outside like a wave.

Adrian stiffens instantly, his instincts taking over. In a heartbeat, he shoves me behind him, his hand firm but careful. “Stay down,” he growls, already pulling another gun from the holster strapped to his thigh.

The metal glints under the dim light as he levels it at the door.

It bursts open.

He fires.

“FUCK!”

The shouting turns to swearing as the dust settles, and Adrian’s finger eases off the trigger. Familiar silhouettes stand frozen in the doorway.

Lukin curses again, ducking behind a crate. “You bastard! You almost shot me!”

Kaz waves the smoke from his face. “Jesus, Adrian. Maybe a warning next time?”

Zalar steps inside, scanning the scene calmly despite the wreckage and bullet holes now decorating the door frame.

Adrian lowers the gun, his chest still rising and falling sharply. “You should’ve announced yourselves.”