Forced to Marry the Bratva: Age Gap Mafia Romance (Zolotov Bratva Book 5)

Chapter 19 - Damien

I see Gerald’s hand connect sharply with Genevieve’s cheek, the crack echoing down the empty hallway. Before I even register what I’m doing, my fist slams into his jaw.

He stumbles back against the wall as I step in close and grab his collar, holding him against the wall, my voice low and lethal. “If you ever lay a hand on her again, I’ll make you wish you were dead.” I spit on his feet.

Adrenaline pounds through me, every muscle coiled tight, ready to strike. I want to beat him bloody right here after what I just saw him do. He calls himself a father? Sick bastard.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Genevieve watching, her eyes wide. She still holds her hand to her reddening cheek, breaths coming quick and shallow.

“You bastard,” Gerald tries to free himself from my grip. “I think you forget she’s my daughter. I could have her back in my house within a second,” he growls at me.

“How dare you threaten me?” I bellow at him, punching him straight in the gut. “How dare you think you have a right to treat my wife like an object?” I punch him again.

Genevieve lets out a sharp gasp, and my eyes glance at her as I punch him again. Her hand flies to her mouth as she watches me batter Gerald. Gerald doubles over in pain, spitting out blood. I release him and try to focus on Genevieve.

I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms, to soothe away the fear in those emerald eyes. But not before my message gets through to Gerald loud and clear. He reaches up, rubbing his jaw. I fix him with an icy stare, letting the promise of violence hang unspoken between us. After a tense moment, he turns to me and snarls. “You fuckin’ Zolotovs. Got more brawn than brains.”

“You’re in my bloody office!” I shout in his face. “Disrespecting my wife. Disrespecting my family! Russo, I’ll pound you to the ground right this bloody instant, you hear me?”

“I can say what I want, bastard. Genevieve,” he says, turning to her. “You come home with me right this instant. I demand it.”

He tries walking over to her, but I block his path, standing in front of her like a shield.

“You really want to do this?” Gerald sneers, his smirk twisted into a snarl. But I remain stoic, my voice low and firm.

“Father, please,” Genevieve mutters. “Damien’s only protecting me the way a husband might.”

Gerald doesn’t respond, but the fact that she just tried standing up for me isn’t lost on me.

I look at Gerald. “If you lay a hand on her again, I swear I’ll end you. I’ll make sure your memory is wiped from existence. You will not touch my wife ever again.” The venom in each word drips like poison.

“D…Damien,” Genevieve whispers. I turn to see what it is she needs. Her lips are parted slightly, her chest rising and falling. I fight the urge to brush my knuckles over the tender skin of her cheek, to tell her she’ll never know harm again while I still draw breath. But the words catch in my throat. So, for now, I simply meet her gaze and hope she sees the depths of my devotion shining back at her.

She looks to her right and then back at me, motioning at me to look the same way. I turn, and to my horror, over a dozen employees crowd at the end of the hallway.

My breath falters in my throat as I notice the onlookers. The situation has escalated quickly, and I hadn’t realized I’d caused a scene. I’ve never let go of my emotions in the workplace, and I can see the fear etched into my employees’ faces.

Oh, fuck.

I turn back to Genevieve, and she’s still watching me, her eyes wide with fear and concern. I feel horrid for having embarrassed her. I need to rein in my emotions before rumors spread about Genevieve and what happened between her father and husband.

I step close to Gerald and bring my mouth close to his ears so only he can hear what I have to say. “You need to learn your place.”

My voice hardens as I step back a little to look at him. He stares back defiantly. “Let this be a warning. Come near her again, and you’ll regret it. You might not live to see another day. I won’t repeat myself.”

The room falls into tense silence, trying to hear my words, but I’m sure my words are heard by my father-in-law alone. I meet Gerald’s eyes, letting him see the truth there: I protect what’s mine, and Genevieve is mine now.

After a long moment, Gerald looks away, jaw clenched. I turn on my heels and walk away, but I hear him speak in a low, threatening voice. “Genevieve. Come with me, now.”

I stand by Genevieve’s side and turn to face him. He has his hand out for her, his face red with fury.

“D…Dad,” she says. “I… I’ll be going home with my h…husband. W…with Damien,” she stutters, trying to stand up for me. I can tell how terrified she is of him, yet her bravery in defending our relationship shines through.

I’ve never felt prouder of my wife than in this very moment.

He glowers at her, his eyes darting between the two of us. He adjusts his coat rather violently and takes a step closer. “I’ll deal with you later,” he threatens Genevieve.

“Back off,” I step in front of her.

He stares at me, enraged, and turns around without another word, stalking away from the hallway without another word.

I release a slow breath as he disappears around the corner. Genevieve steps up beside me, slipping her hand into mine. I intertwine my fingers through hers and look at my employees.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” I drawl, cold and unfazed.

They look at each other like scared chickens and scatter.

Genevieve’s eyes search mine, her breath still coming in soft gasps. Her fingertips brush my arm, and I suppress a shiver at her touch. Our eyes meet, and in them I see a flicker of the fire from when she stood up to Gerald. Slowly, she steps back, chin lifted.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I could have handled it.”

It breaks my heart to see her so unfamiliar with having someone on her team, to pretend she could have dealt with her father herself.

I reach up and gently grasp her hand. “Yes, I did. I’m your husband. It’s my responsibility to shield you from all harm, even if it’s coming from your father.”

Her lips curve into a tremulous smile. “Still. Thank you for defending me.”

Warmth blooms in my chest at her words. I squeeze her hand lightly. “I’ll always protect you, Genevieve. No matter what.”

She blinks rapidly and looks down, showing rare vulnerability. I tilt her chin up with a knuckle under her jaw. Her eyes are bright with emotion. Unable to resist any longer, I lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead. She sighs, some of the tension leaving her body.

I wish I could take away her pain and undo the assault she just faced.

We stand like that for a long moment, her hand still clasped in mine. I don’t know what this means for us or where we go from here. But as I breathe in the sweet floral scent of her hair, I know one thing.

I will never let anyone hurt my Genevieve again. “Come, let’s get you home,” I say, gently guiding her out of the office. She’s had enough. She needs to rest and heal.

***

The ride back home is quiet. Genevieve sits beside me in the back of the car, her gaze distant as she watches the city lights stream by through the tinted windows. She hasn’t said a word since we left the office.

I study her profile, taking in the furrow between her brows and the tension in her slender frame. She’s unsettled, lost in her own thoughts. I assume a lot is going through her mind. Her father slapping her, my confrontation with Gerald, her defiance in the face of his rage. It’s too much for a single person to bear.

Perhaps I could’ve made it easier for her to have dealt with Gerald in a less confrontational manner. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh in front of all those spectators.

Perhaps my actions were too aggressive. I let my emotions get the better of me despite my reputation for being cool and calculated. But when I saw Gerald’s hand connect with Genevieve’s cheek, something primal rose up inside me, demanding retribution.

But that’s no excuse for having traumatized her.

“Genevieve,” I say softly. She starts, turning to look at me with those wide, sea-foam eyes. “About earlier. I apologize if my behavior upset you. I allowed my temper to get out of hand.”

My ruthless reputation precedes me, yet until tonight, Genevieve has only experienced my gentle nature. She has only ever seen my ferocity in the ring.

“I would never direct such anger at you,” I assure her. Reaching over, I take one of her hands in mine, enveloping it completely. So small and delicate. “Never doubt that I only want to keep you safe.”

She meets my gaze again, lips curving into a tremulous smile. “I know,” she whispers. “I’m not upset with you, Damien.”

Her voice is steady, certain. I feel a flood of relief.

“I just...” She bites her lip, glancing down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. “I’ve never seen you so angry before. It surprised me.”

I nod slowly, understanding dawning.

And just like that, the tension melts from her body. She moves closer, placing her arm on my shoulder and toys with the back of my neck.

I turn, glance at Genevieve, and caress her cheek. “I’m glad to hear you say that. But I need to know—has Gerald ever hurt you before today?”

Genevieve’s gaze drops, and she takes a shaky breath. “No. He’s always been controlling but never violent until now.”

She looks back up at me, her eyes glistening. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I’ve never disobeyed or spoken out against my family until today. That must have angered him. I was always taught that a woman‘s duty is to her father and husband.”

I feel a pang in my chest at the resignation in her voice. This vibrant, strong woman, conditioned to silence herself.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell her firmly. “You showed true courage by standing up to him, for yourself and for me. I admire you for finding your voice.”

A shy smile tugs at her lips. “Having you at my side makes me feel braver. Like I can take on anything.”

Her admission sends a thrill through me. I lift her hand and brush my lips over her knuckles.

“With you, I feel the same,” I say huskily.

She gives me a little nod and looks away. We drive the rest of the distance without another word shared between us. I glance across at her often, and though she looks calm, I worry at the silence between us. Somewhere in her head, she’s fighting battles I’m not privy too.