Page 17 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

“We could,” I sigh wistfully, sounding forlorn. “I just wish Damien was here to enjoy this afternoon with us.”

“Genevieve,” he says, turning to me from the shelves where he collects glasses for Anoushka and Robin. “I know it must have been lonely for you this week. But Damien’s got one very important real estate acquisition meeting for the club I want to start on Tuesday and a board meeting with Boris, Ivan, and our cousins that same afternoon for the family business. I think after that’s done, he’ll have some more time on his hands.”

“Thanks,” I smile, looking hopeful. “Let’s hope these meetings are in Philadelphia, and he won’t jet off to London or something,” I joke, hoping to get more information.

“London?” Lev laughs. “Damien values his time too much. Most of his meetings take place in his office. Don’t you worry about that. Now, come on. Let’s go get drunk!” he sings as he walks out of the kitchen.

Bingo. I got just the information I needed. Now, all I need to do is find the address to his office, and I know Papa would have it at the tip of his fingers.

Chapter 7 - Damien

This afternoon, I stand in front of the property, taking in its grandeur. The building has an old-world charm with intricate moldings and wrought iron balconies. It’s the perfect location for a gentleman’s club—secluded from the city’s chaos yet easily accessible. I can practically see Lev’s clientele enjoying their evenings here, discussing deals and indulging in all the fine things life has to offer.

“Mr. Zolotov,” the real estate agent greets me as he walks out of the door, extending his hand. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Good afternoon,” I reply, shaking his hand firmly. “Let’s not waste time,” I motion at the doors.

From the moment we enter, I can envision its potential. The large rooms would provide ample space for hosting events, while the smaller ones could be turned into private lounges. There’s even an area that could be transformed into a cigar room.

“Alright,” I say after we’ve completed the tour. “This place will do. What’s the asking price?”

The agent hesitates before answering, “Well, Mr. Zolotov, I have some news. The going rate in the market was ten million. Due to Mr. Russo’s influence, the purchase price has been cut significantly for you, and the owner is willing to offer it for eight.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What does Gerald Russo have to do with this?”

“Apparently, he made some arrangements with the owner,” the agent replies, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know all the details, but it seems he wants this deal to happen.”

I cross my arms, suspicion gnawing at me. Gerald’s involvement doesn’t sit well. He’s never been one to act without an ulterior motive. I need to understand what’s going on.

And how the hell did he even find out about this meeting?

I put on a straight face, and pretend this property isn’t the only option we have. “In that case, I’ll discuss the matter with Mr. Russo and reach out if we still need your services.”

The agent looks a little worried, but I turn on my heels and leave. Once out of the agent’s sight, I take one last look at the property. It’s perfect for our venture, but Gerald’s interference has me on edge. I need to find out what he’s up to before committing to anything. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s to never underestimate the cunning man.

***

After this newfound revelation, I storm into the back of my car, my frustration evident as I slam the door behind me. I make the call and don’t bother with the formalities: “What the hell are you playing at, Russo?” I demand.

“Damien, always a pleasure,” he jeers. “To what do I owe this delightful call from my son-in-law?”

“Cut the crap. Why did you interfere with the purchase of the club? What’s your game?” My hands clench into fists.

“Relax, Damien. Is this how you talk to your father-in-law? I’m just making sure things run smoothly for you and my daughter. Consider it a... wedding gift.” His smug tone infuriates me further.

“How did you find out about it?” I ask slowly.

“All of our family business is in my purview. You ought to know that,” he says.

“This has nothing to do with our family business. This venture I’m undertaking is to set it up for Lev and Lev alone. Neither I, nor your daughter, nor YOU will benefit from it.”

“Does it matter who it’s for? The business is to be run by a Zolotov, isn’t it? Whether it’s Boris or Lev or you, we’re all in this together, aren’t we?”

“There is no ‘we’ here, Gerald,” I tell him, my voice on edge.

“I married my daughter off to a Zolotov. Any Zolotov business is my business. Expanding together will only strengthen our alliance. It’s good for both of us.”

“You’re deeply mistaken,” I say through gritted teeth. “Lev will be the one calling the shots in this venture. You won’t have a say in it.”

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