Page 70 of The Bratva's Forced Bride

Keeping our men at a safe distance, the two of us walked around the building with Alessia in tow. She was unsteady on her feet, surely from the fear and constant adrenaline since the moment we grabbed her off the street.

Normally, we didn’t have those kinds of dealings during the day, but given that the warehouse was tucked away in a remote location in Boston, we were far enough away to keep any public attention away from us.

At the very least, doing the trade with the sun on us wouldn’t let anything go unseen.

Standing by the building, shaded from the heat, was presumably Pietro. He had Grace in his grasp, pulling her out into the open.

Her eyes lit up at the recognition, and her shoulders dropped with some relief. I could just imagine she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.

I told myself to keep that same level of reservation despite how desperately I wanted to run over and hold her. To safeguard her from the terror of a man that stood next to her.

Above all else, Grace appeared to be unharmed yet understandably rattled. I took it as a good sign.

But it was hard to picture Pietro being the one to cause us so much grief over the last few months. He looked young and inexperienced, not like the sadistic orchestrator I had in my head.

Just from looking at him, I knew I could snap him in half if I needed to. While a part of me wanted that satisfaction, I hoped it wouldn’t come down to it. I didn’t want things to be messier than necessary.

“Welcome,” Pietro said, wearing a smug smile. “I’ve been waiting to meet the infamous Levovs for myself.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but this is all you’re getting,” I returned, already feeling as that anger coursed through me.

“You’re not Andrei, but I don’t mind starting from the bottom.”

He may have been young, but he knew exactly how to get under my skin. He was irritating and apparently used that to his advantage.

“I’m not here to talk,” I stated firmly, clenching my fist at my side. “I want my wife in exchange for your sister. That’s the deal.”

Pietro wore a feigned frown, seeming disappointed by my choice to speed things along. “But you’re in my position to be making demands, Yaro.” A devious grin moved across his face. “You’re in Bruno territory now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, aware of what that meant. We had fallen for another trap.

“We managed to buy the warehouse from the bank, just the way we wanted it,” Pietro said, looking far too impressed with himself. “I was surprised you requested this place, but it worked in our favor.”

More wrath threatened to push me off the handle, but I remembered our numbers. Pietro had no idea about the groups we called from the area. He likely assumed I only had a handful of men waiting to be signaled.

“Hand Grace over,” I shouted more sternly, keeping my expression hard. “If not, your sister will pay for it in her blood.”

I half expected him to show any sort of regret or tension at the sound of his sister being taken out, but Pietro’s smile lingered.

“My new fiancée isn’t going anywhere, Levov.”

Furrowing my brows, I didn’t know what he meant. Confused, I didn’t take my eyes away from him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Pietro slipped an arm around Grace’s shoulders like he owned her, and that realization dawned on me. There was no mistaking his intentions.

Grace squirmed from beneath his hold, yet she couldn’t get away. His discomfort was not only the validation I needed, but it also fueled that fire growing within me.

“I liberated Grace as her father wanted, and I won’t just let her return to you,” he announced, grinning ear-to-ear. “I’m becoming a bit infamous myself, and I need a good woman to bring me heirs. Plus, it’s more salt to your wounds. Not only did we intercept many of your deals, but I also took your girl too.”

Lifting my gun on him, I cocked it as a warning. “I’m not interested in talking.” Glancing at Vik, I mumbled his name.

Knowing what I wanted, he reluctantly reached for his gun and pointed it at Alessia’s head, almost like someone had a barrel against his head, too. He didn’t want to involve her, and while I didn’t either, we had no choice.

Pietro watched as we made our moves, nodding absently. With his arm around her neck, he pulled his own on her.

His brows lifted as I tensed, and he laughed. “Oh, did you think that just because I wanted her, I wouldn’t do what needed to be done? She’s a trophy, Levov, but nothing more than that.”

We were locked then, and his words had me ready to pounce at any given moment. He had no right to talk about my wife in that way, especially not being the pathetic man that he was.

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