Page 81 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan

“I’m going to neutralize the threat he represents.” The distinction is important. “What form that takes depends on several factors, including what you want.”

She stands, moving to face me directly. “What I want?”

“He’s your father. Despite everything he’s done—selling you, betraying the alliance, working with enemies—he’s still your family.” I cup her face gently. “If you want him alive, I’ll find another way to ensure his silence. Exile, blackmail,permanent surveillance. If you want him gone, I can do that too.”

“Stop.” She pulls away, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just stop talking about killing my father like it’s a business decision.”

“It is a business decision.” I keep my voice level. “One with significant emotional weight, but a decision nonetheless. You get to be part of making it.”

“I don’t want to make it!” Her voice rises. “I don’t want to choose whether my father lives or dies. I don’t want to be part of this world where that’s even a question I have to answer.”

“You’re part of this world now.” I move closer but don’t touch her. “By marriage, by choice, by everything we’ve built together. Your father’s betrayal affects both of us. The decision about how to handle him should too.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, struggling with emotions I can see warring across her features. Finally, she looks up at me.

“I want to confront him. Myself. Face to face.” Her jaw sets with determination. “Before you do whatever you’re going to do, I want to tell him exactly what I think of him.”

“That’s dangerous. If he’s desperate—”

“Then you’ll be there to protect me.” She meets my gaze steadily. “I need this, Pavel. I need to cut ties myself instead of just accepting whatever decision you make.”

The strength in her voice makes something warm settle in my chest. This is the woman I fell in love with—refusing to be passive, demanding agency even in circumstances designed to deny it.

“Alright,” I agree. “We’ll arrange a meeting. Controlled environment, full security, but you’ll have your confrontation.”

The meeting is set for two days later at a neutral location—a private room in a hotel the Bratva owns, with guards positioned outside and surveillance monitoring every angle.

Senator Souris arrives looking haggard, his usual polished appearance diminished by stress and fear. He knows why he’s here. Knows the Kravin alliance has collapsed and his usefulness has expired.

“Serena.” His voice cracks when he sees her. “Thank God you’re alright. I’ve been so worried.”

“Don’t.” She cuts him off, her tone cold. “Don’t pretend you were worried about me. Don’t pretend any of this was about protecting me.”

“I had no choice.”

“You had choices.” I watch from my position near the door as Serena faces down her father. “You chose to sell me to save your career. You chose to work with Kravin to undermine the alliance you created. You chose your political survival over your daughter’s safety repeatedly.”

“I was doing what I thought was best.”

“For you!” Her voice rises, years of suppressed hurt bleeding through. “You were doing what was best for you. Not for me. Not for our family. Just for Senator Souris and his precious political position.”

He reaches for her, but I step forward instinctively. He freezes, recognizing the threat.

“Serena, please, I’m your father.”

“You stopped being my father the moment you signed that marriage contract.” Tears stream down her face now, but her voice stays strong. “A real father would have found another way. Would have protected his daughter instead of using heras a bargaining chip. Would have—” She stops, struggling for control.

“Would have done what Pavel does,” she continues quietly. “Put my safety above strategic advantage. Chosen me over organizational interests. Actually loved me instead of just seeing me as an asset to be deployed.”

The comparison makes my chest tighten. I never expected her to defend me to her father, to hold me up as an example of what paternal care should look like.

“I won’t apologize for keeping you alive,” Souris says, his voice hardening. “For making difficult decisions that ensured your survival in a dangerous world.”

“You don’t get to take credit for my survival.” Serena’s hands curl into fists. “I survived despite you, not because of you. I survived because I’m stronger than you ever gave me credit for. I adapted and learned and refused to break even when everything was designed to destroy me.”

She takes a step closer to him, her expression fierce.

“I’m done being your daughter. Done caring what you think or whether you approve. Done letting your choices define my life.” Her voice drops to something quieter but infinitely more final. “As of right now, you don’t have a daughter anymore. We’re done.”