Page 29 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim
The ceremony is over in moments. I’m glad they skipped the kissing. I’ll never touch my lips to his willingly. Never.
The priest steps aside, murmuring congratulations, while the guests applaud politely, some with curiosity, some with subtle nods of respect.
The hall feels impossibly full, every face a silent acknowledgment of the new reality: I am Mike Rusnak’s bride. A statement. A declaration. A warning.
We descend the steps together. My heels click against the marble, but my mind is elsewhere. Every instinct screams to push him, to shove, to break the hold this day has over me.
“Didn’t you say it’s a small wedding?” I whisper, voice tight.
“Solntse, this is small,” he replies, his tone calm but firm.
Solntse? The word rolls off his tongue. It’s unfamiliar, yet there’s a warmth and intensity in the way he says it. My pulse spikes.
He leans closer, voice soft. “Now everyone knows you are my bride. No one will dare mark you again. To attack you now would mean a direct confrontation with the Rusnaks.”
I hiss between my teeth. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want out. I want my life back.”
He smiles, a slow, controlled curl of his lips that sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to my brothers and their families. It’s important.”
I grit my teeth as I walk beside him, each step heavy.
The introductions are surprisingly brief, even though we’re not complete strangers. As always, the other wives are warm and polished, exchanging compliments that make me crack the tiniest of smiles despite myself.
I manage a quiet moment with Samantha and Adrian. They hug me, quick congratulations, no questions asked. Relief washes over me. Samantha whispers that she’ll handle everything while I’m away and that I should focus on myself for now. My chest tightens, a tear threatening to escape. She’s always playful, lazy even, but she’s smart, dependable, and somehow, just being reminded she has my back is grounding.
Shortly after, we move to the reception. The venue is softer. Every surface is adorned with fresh lilies, and delicate decor flickers against mirrored tables. The air smells faintly of jasmine, mingling with the crisp scent of white roses. Guests chatter and laugh, swirling champagne in tall flutes, the clink of glass punctuating the music.
It’s surreal. People are dancing, smiling, enjoying themselves, and I feel like I’m burning from the inside. My hands clutch the bouquet a little too tightly as I drift past them, a phantom in celebration.
I’m grateful when Raelyn finds me after the couple’s dance. She tugs my hand gently, eyes full of warmth and mischief. “Hey, come sit.”
I nod, letting her lead me to a quiet corner, thankful for the one familiar, grounding presence in this whirlwind of silk, lilies, and power.
When she presses me into a chair, I don’t complain. She sits across from me.
We’re both at a loss for words.
Days ago, when she’d come to see me, we didn’t cry. Unlike the time she told me about her forced marriage to Konstantin. Back then, tears had fallen freely, but this time, we just sat, she quietly trying to placate me while I raged and cursed.
“There’s nothing you can do right now,” she had said. “Your safety is the only thing that matters. After that…then you can think about divorce.”
Honestly, that’s the only reason I’m holding on, the thought that maybe one day, when this is all over, I can divorce Mike.
Raelyn leans forward, eyes soft. “Are you okay?”
I nod, forcing the lie. “I’m fine.”
She smiles, the corners of her lips teasing. “For what it’s worth, you look very beautiful.”
I laugh and swat her hand. “Shut up.”
She doesn’t back down. “So…how’s your relationship with Mike at the moment?”
I hiss through my teeth. “What relationship? We haven’t spoken in three days. Not until I met him at the altar.”
I see the worry flash across her face, but I wave it off. “And don’t worry, Raelyn. I don’t judge you for falling for Konstantin, but that’ll never be me. I’ll never fall for a man who took my choice away and put me in this position.”
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly but still warm. “Don’t worry. Divorce is always on the table. Just make sure the threat is neutralized first.”
