Page 4 of The Bratva's Hostage

I felt isolated from the craziness that happened outside the car. My entire life, my father had done his best to keep me in a protective cocoon, hidden from the eyes of rivals and allies alike.

This was the first time that I would make a public appearance as Don Armando’s daughter, and I was both nervous and excited at the same time. It spoke volumes that my father considered me ready to “join the family business”, as he had put it.

The fundraiser we were headed to was an important one, and my dad had informed me that some of the biggest players in New York would be present tonight.

“I know you will make me proud, mia bambina,” he’d said to me a few hours ago. “To carry yourself in a way that reflects the quality of your education and upbringing, right? I know I have nothing to worry about.”

Tonight’s event was about building relationships, but I wasn’t a fool. It was about more than that. There was a reason he’d asked for me to come with him to a gathering of the top bosses in the city.

Papa wasn’t just trying to build connections; he was also trying to create alliances. He was showing me off, and I found that I did not mind being used in that way. I wanted to play my part for the Moretti family, and I was acutely aware that I didn’t get to pick the role I played.

I’d never made any public appearances at special events before, so I didn’t expect people to recognize me. Nevertheless, I was excited to meet people who could help build our empire.

The cars parked outside an art gallery. Dozens of shiny SUVs were parked on both sides of the street, with men in suits milling about. Fortunately, the rain had stopped.

Francisco, father’s head of security, opened my door and helped me out of the car. The ground was slick with rain, and I had a moment of panic. It would be tremendously embarrassing if I slipped and fell here.

Francisco seemed to read my thoughts, as he said, “Let me help you, Miss Elena.”

I glanced back to see my father coming with Lucas, the two old men picking their steps gingerly on the slippery ground. I turned back to Francisco and nodded.

He was a well-built man, and his muscles ripped through his suit. He had been my father’s employee since he was a teenager, and now he was a full-grown man. He and Marco had been close, and I often caught him stealing glances at me.

I could have told him that messing with me was death for him, but I was pretty sure he knew that already. I also checked him out when he wasn’t looking. He was an attractive man, but in the words of my father, ‘my employees will never marry my princess’, I knew that was no chance in the world that we could have started a relationship.

Francisco helped me up the stairs to the landing of the art gallery, then let my hand go. He nodded at his Don and my uncle who had been following close behind, then returned to join the other men where the cars were parked.

I took my father’s arm again and together; we entered the most important event of my life. Nothing could have prepared me for how overwhelming it all was. I got a lot of attention as I entered with my father, and guests turned to watch us as we walked past.

My father was oblivious to the stares. As far as he was concerned, we were alone in the room. We had barely taken twenty steps into the crowded room before the socializing started.

A rotund man with a massive gap in his teeth was the first to stop my father. Uncle Lucas acted quickly and took the hand that the fat man held out to the Don. He shook the fat man’s hand with a cocky smile and then placed an arm around his shoulder like an old friend.

My father yanked my arm slightly, drawing my attention away from both. “Come, this way.” He led in another direction. “These Irish are relentless. Do me a favor, bambina, you ever hear that accent, turn around and walk away as fast as you can.”

I laughed. “Will do, papa.” I looked aroundthe room. “This is so amazing.”

“It is,” he agreed. “At first. Believe me, if you go to enough of these events and you lose the appetite for polite society, you can take my word for it. Now, don’t you have anything better to do than stand around here and talk to an old man? I’m sure every young man turned his head to gawk at you when we came in. Don’t let that wait for you, will you?”

I laughed again. “Anybody else you want me to stay away from while I’m at it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Just the Irish, cara mia [my darling]. Now, go enjoy your evening. I see your uncle is returning already.”

I kissed him on the cheek and walked towards the well-lit bar at the other end of the room. I moved past groups, smiling when someone tried to speak to me, but never stopping to chat.

While I wanted to make all the right connections, I didn’t count on how exhausting actual socializing could be. I made it safely to the bar and the barman, a charming blonde guy with tattoos on his arms and sparkling white teeth, leaned forward, smiling.

“What can I make for you, love?” he asked in a British accent. “You look like you’re wanting something strong, hmm?”

“A dirty martini, actually,” I said smiling. “Make it as filthy as you can.”

He grinned. “I know a thirsty woman when I see one. One dirty martini coming, beautiful.”

I turned to watch the crowd of well-dressed people as they moved seamlessly from one conversation to the other like they were floating on some unseen current. It was chaos, but it was organized chaos, and I was a stranger to all of it.

Was this going to be my life going forward? Public outings where everyone smiled at everyone, but brandished knives and guns under their clothes. It was complicated and tiring, but it was necessary. That much was obvious to me.

My father was preparing me for leadership. I was next in line to succeed my father, and that meant I had to be ready to do whatever was necessary for my family and our business.

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