Page 64 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva

“Tell me!” I snap. “Were you the reason every guy I dated ghosted me? Every time a guy started getting close, they’d vanish. No calls. No texts. Just—gone.”

He doesn’t flinch when the pictures hit him. Doesn’t even look down as they float to the ground.

But he’s silent.

And that silence is an answer on its own.

I feel heat rise to my face—rage, humiliation, disbelief. “So you were behind it. You were the reason I thought there was something wrong with me. That I wasn’t interesting enough. Pretty enough. Worth enough.”

Still, he says nothing. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in that infuriating way he always does when he’s cornered.

“Say something!” I shout.

“I didn’t hurt them,” he says finally, voice quiet. Measured.

“That’s not the point!” I shake my head, laughter bubbling up, bitter and sharp. “You played God with my life,Adrian. And now I’m stuck in your house, in your bed, wearing your ring like I ever had a choice.”

“You had a choice,” he growls.

“No, I didn’t,” I spit. “Not when you kidnapped my brother. Not when you trapped me in this web you spent months spinning.”

His eyes burn into mine. “I did what I had to do to keep you.”

I take a breath that doesn’t steady me. “No. You did what you had to do to own me.”

That gets a reaction. His expression cracks—just a little. But enough.

“Okay, so what?” he asks calmly. “I made sure none of them came back after the first date,” he admits.

My breath catches.

He takes a slow step toward me, eyes unreadable. “I never touched them. I didn’t have to. I warned them. Paid a few off. Scared the others. Whatever it took. I didn’t want you out there with men who couldn’t protect you…who didn’t deserve you.”

“Protect me?” I shout, the word like acid on my tongue. “You stalked me! Meddled in my life! Controlled every second I thought was mine. And now you want to act like it was protection?”

His face tightens. “It was. You don’t understand—”

“I was safer with them than I’ll ever be with you!”

Something snaps.

In a flash, I’m against the wall. His hand slams beside my head, caging me in. His other hand catches my wrist as I push at him, and suddenly I’m trapped. Again.

“You really think they would’ve died for you?” he growls, voice low and burning. “You think any of those boys would’ve kept you alive when men like me came hunting?”

“I didn’t need anyone to die for me!” I shout back, heart racing. “I just needed someone who didn’t play with my life like it was a fucking chessboard!”

His jaw clenches. For a second, his grip tightens, his body too close, his breath brushing my cheek.

But then…he releases me.

Steps back.

“I did what I had to do,” he says again, quiet now. “I’d do it again.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My hands are trembling at my sides, but I force myself not to back away, not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

Adrian’s eyes are wild, burning with something that’s not just obsession—it’s possession. It’s the kind of want that consumes everything in its path. He steps closer, slow and steady, like he’s afraid I’ll bolt.