Page 65 of Owned Bratva Bride

“You don’t ask a lady her age!” she chastised playfully.

“How else am I supposed to know? Besides, this lady happens to be my wife.”

“I’m 21.”

“Older than you look. Younger than you sound.”

“Is that some kind of backhanded compliment?”

“It was a genuine compliment.”

She nodded.

“Do you want to know my age?”

She scrunched up her face like she was in deep thought.

“Tell me.”

“37.”

“Wow!”

My confusion must have been clearly written on my face because she explained, “I knew you weren’t in my age bracket, but I didn’t think you’d be….”

“So old?”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m surprised. You look way younger than someone who will be forty in a few years.”

“Is that your way of saying I look good?”

“Get off your high horse, Eduard!” she uttered, laughing.

Damn.

I loved that sound.

But I loved something even more.

“I love how my name rolls off your lips.”

She said nothing but didn’t look away either.

What happened to never getting close to any woman?

Chapter 13 – Marielle

I woke up as Mrs. Yezhov.

The title tasted like poison on my tongue and sat heavily in my stomach.

I had imagined that the first time I’d wear the ‘Mrs.’ tag would be so thrilling. I had thought I would be filled with love for my husband, whoever he was. I had imagined that I would wake up cocooned in his arms, smiling shyly at him as we shared the memories of our explosive night.

Well, now I felt anything but bliss.

I wasn’t in love with my captor-turned-husband. Yes, maybe there were stupid, tingly sensations here and there, but I was definitely not attracted to him. I didn’t feel any real pull toward him.

What was I expecting?