Page 9 of Forced into a Bratva Marriage
The strange man didn’t move. He didn’t even tilt his head in my direction.
See, totally fine.
I still wasn’t convinced yet.
The bells jingled as I pushed the door open and walked inside. The scent of roasted garlic and baked bread drifted into my nostrils, a subtle reminder that I was hungry.
The place was almost empty, with just a few customers hanging around. I secured a booth by the window, the perfect angle to spy on the strange man without being noticed.
I settled into that seat, my bag on my lap, feet tapping rapidly against the floor. I picked up the menu from the table and stared at it as if it had something useful to say.
“Hi.” A waiter appeared beside me.
Startled, I almost flinched. But I didn’t.
“What would you like for the evening?” he asked with a polite smile.
I hadn’t come here to eat, so I ordered a tea.
“Coming right up.” He dematerialized.
I looked out the window, and the man was still standing there like a statue. My brows knitted together as I wondered who he was and what he was doing there.
Even though this might have nothing to do with me, the man was still creepy. I held the menu over my face while discreetly studying both the man and the SUV.
The second I lowered it, my breath hitched when I saw a man already seated across from me. How did he get here? When did he get here? I didn’t hear him move.
Dressed in a black tailored coat, he stared at me in silence, his presence commanding attention. His short dark brown hair caught the soft light above, neat and glistening. His eyes, a cold steel-blue, bore into mine in a way that was rather unsettling.
The man’s expression was blank, and the faint scar along his collarbone accentuated his ruggedness. His gaze alone was intimidating as staring at him seemed like staring into the abyss.
He sat in silence, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, his presence so heavy it twisted my stomach with fear. This man was scarier than the stranger from the hearing room and the man outside combined.
One look from him was enough to announce his coldness and ruthlessness. The quality of his outfit and the scent of his expensive cologne hinted at power and wealth. And the cheap kind.
His eyes were empty, like he had no soul, and that creeped me out more than I cared to admit. The intensity of his gaze was powerful enough to crush anyone’s spirit. Mine included.
My palms were sweaty, and my heart was already racing in my chest. This man didn’t need to say a word to inflict fear. His presence alone was spooky as fuck.
I managed to glance out the window again, and the previous man was still at the same spot. Motionless.
“He’s the least of your problems,” the man across from me said, his voice deep and menacing.
I swallowed hard, struggling to mask my fear as I looked in those cold, empty eyes of his. “You know, there’s literally other tables you could sit at.” My voice was a bit shaky.
Silence.
“Sir, I’m not comfortable with you sitting here,” I added.
He kept his gaze on me but said nothing.
Seeing he wasn’t ready to respond, I rose to my feet. “Fine, you can have the booth.”
“Drop the case,” he said flatly.
My heart skipped a beat. “What?”
He looked up at me with a straight face. “Drop…the case.”
