Page 75 of Forced Bratva Kidnapped Virgin
The church doors parted, and I walked into the building, dressed in a white silk lace gown. The gown clung to me in all the right places, its hem sweeping the floor behind me as I moved.
Heads turned as I marched down the aisle, my eyes fixed on the suited man at the altar. He was wearing a white tuxedo with black pants and nearly combed hair. His shoes were polished to a shine, his bow tie firm around his neck.
He looked rather ravishing, his gaze holding a hint of adoration. My pulse raced as I neared the altar, knowing that I was approaching the point of no return. Forever was a really long time, and I still wasn’t sure I was making the right decision.
So far, things had been smooth between us—we understood each other better. Even though we still fought most of the time. I was starting to get used to his presence and was already addicted to his touch.
Yet, it felt like something was missing, although I had no idea what. Vika’s case and the look of disappointment in July’s eyes that day in the courtroom had taught me a hard lesson. No matter how just my intentions were, bearing the Tarasov name would ruin everything I touched.
Did I really want that?
The answer was no.
But at this point, my fate was already sealed. Nial had claimed me as his own, and I was carrying a piece of him inside me. There was no going back now; this union must happen. It was the only way I’d survive and raise my child.
Tears stung my eyes as I neared the waiting groom, my heart racing wildly. This was not how I intended my life to turn out. Just two months ago, I had everything figured out: my future, my career, and the people I was going to help.
Yet here I was, about to tie the knot with one of the city’s most ruthless Mafia bosses. Men like him deserved to spend the rest of their lives in a cell, put there by people like me.
But fate had a twisted sense of humor.
Was fate also responsible for these feelings growing within me? Or was that just a result of my own carelessness?
We’d made love a couple of times now, each time better and more spontaneous than the last. And because of that, I felt deeply connected to this man on a level beyond the physical.
I walked to the altar, confused, even though there was nothing I could do about my situation. He reached out, helping me up the steps like a true gentleman.
The scent of his cologne, mixed with the aroma of my perfume, filled the air around us as we stood across from each other. He held my gaze, his expression a little softer than usual.
“Dearly beloved…” the priest began, arms apart, his voice echoing off the church walls. “We are gathered here today….”
I stared into Nial’s cold eyes, searching for a reason to damn the consequences and bolt out of this church. In those depths, I saw a million and one reasons.
Murderer.
Drug dealer.
Smuggler.
Money launderer.
Monster.
Mafia.
The list went on and on because the man embodied everything I stood against. Nial was a living, breathing representation of evil, an oppressor with no remorse.
It was his job to trample on people and inflict fear. My job was to set them free and give them hope. Although we’d reached an agreement on how we’d run our home, it just didn’t seem like it was enough.
“Do you, Kiera Jane, take this man, Nial Tarasov, to be your lawfully wedded husband…?” The priest’s voice snapped me back to the present.
I looked into his eyes, struggling to hold back my tears. The question had landed like a knife to my chest, and the whole congregation was waiting for my answer.
I closed my eyes for a fleeting moment, a quiet sigh escaping my lips. “I do.”
Everything else that came after happened in a blur, and the next thing I knew, we were already at the kissing part.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest announced.
