Page 7 of The Bratva's Hostage

Did her father send her? We were enemies and anything that could be found against the other would give the opposition the upper hand.

“Hmm… I don’t think so,” I whispered to myself. There was no way her father would risk the life of his only daughter for information that anyone else in the Italian mafia could have found themselves.

“Fyodor, get in here,” I called into the intercom.

The doors opened and my second in command walked in, standing alert as he awaited further instructions.

“Sit,” I pointed at the chair opposite me.

He obeyed, immediately sitting down, his body tense. I cocked my head to the side, sliding the file he’d given me to the middle of the table.

“Was this all you were able to find on her? Couldn’t you go any deeper?” I asked.

“No, boss. The information on her was scarce. She seems to have come out of nowhere, possibly as a last resort her father took to protect her from his lifestyle. She’s not much of a social person and keeps to herself and no one was willing to snitch, not there was any more information to get.”

“Hmm… I see. We’ll have to monitor her now and make sure that we find out as much as we can. She’ll lead us to the answer we need,” I said, getting up from behind my desk as I looked through the glass walls of my office, into the busy streets of New York.

“Yes, boss. I have people tailing her as you instructed last night,” Fyodor said.

I nodded, impressed with his efficiency. Fyodor was the best, my best second in command. He carried out his tasks diligently.

“Good. Where is she right now?” I asked with my hands clasped behind my back, not turning to face him.

“She is out for lunch with Don Armando in one of the top Italian restaurants in downtown Manhattan.”

Her father… Don Armando.

I still didn’t have any idea whether her father was involved in her actions. It struck me as odd that she would go ahead and pull a stunt like that, risking his anger and problems for her people without his approval, and yet, I couldn’t reconcile myself with the idea that he sent her.

Is there a third party in the picture?

“Good. Continue to have the men tail her. They must never let her out of their sight. I want to know her every move. Who she sees, what she does. Everything until she goes to bed.”

Fyodor’s phone rang, disturbing the calmness in the office. I gestured for him to pick up, staring at him as he answered.

A wave of panic swept through his gaze as he looked up at me only seconds into the call.

“Do you know where they were taken?” he asked, his words keeping me on edge.

Who was taken and where?

I waited for him to finish despite my burning curiosity. One thing was for certain, something had gone wrong, and it had to do with the Italians.

“Well, spit it out already,” I said the moment he finished the call.

“A fight broke out between our men and the Italians. They realized that we were tailing them and ambushed our men, taking a few of them hostage,” he said, his fingers flying across his screen in rapid succession as he tried to find out more information.

“They were ambushed outside of the restaurant,” he added, confirming my suspicion.

Fuck!

I kicked the chair in front of me, my anger rising as it clattered to the floor and punched the wall, feeling the sting on my knuckles. My fingers felt numb, but I didn’t care. The last vestiges of my control were beginning to slip.

“Those fucking Italians are getting on my nerves,” I roared, my eye twitching as I tried to calm myself. “First, they infiltrated my property and now they started a fight and captured my men. Are they trying to start a war? Because I will not stop until I’ve ruined every one of them if that happens. Not even their cries of mercy will stop me.”

The gall of them to think they can win a war with me. All this time I have kept to the code of respect and stayed out of their way so as not to ruin innocent lives, and yet they have dared to take such measures.

Does this have anything to do with why she was in my office?

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