Page 24 of Forced Bratva Bride

“Just remember, if you do go anywhere, make sure to take one of the bodyguards with you. Don’t go out alone.”

“I know, you've told me already,” she sighs. I hate feeling like I am annoying her every time I speak to her.

I clench my jaw. “Alright. I'll see you later, then.”

She nods, staring at me with her arms folded over her chest.

I sigh and turn to leave. One day I am going to have to figure out how to get through to her. Or maybe not. Maybe I can just build a relationship with her father and find out what I need to know from him, and then she can be free of this marriage that she clearly hates being stuck in.

Not only do I feel like I am living with a stranger, but I feel like I annoy the hell out of that stranger whenever she is near me. It makes everything unpleasant, and I feel all sorts of tension and frustration when I'm around her. The frustration of not being able to be with her is definitely at the top of that list. I can’t get that night we spent together out of my mind. It's driving me toward insanity.

I shake my head, lost in thought about her as I walk towards my car. My driver sees me leaving and comes to open the door for me.

“You can hang around here today, Bradley, I'm going to drive myself. I need to clear my thoughts.”

“Yes, sir. Enjoy your drive, then.”

I nod, trying to refocus my thought process toward lunch with Angelo. I guess for this meeting I can just go with the flow and use it to establish some kind of relationship. It might take a few meetings with him before I can start poking around without raising suspicion.

When I arrive at Angelo’s mansion, he is waiting outside to greet me. His broad smile is welcoming and friendly.

I climb out of the car and walk toward him to shake his hand. He huffs out a laugh and pulls me into a hug. “We are family now, my boy. Handshakes are for business only.”

He gives me two solid pats on the back and then ushers me into his home.

“You're just in time. The chef made an incredible lunch spread. I like to mix and match my foods, you know, tapas and crackers, an assortment. It keeps things interesting.”

“Thanks so much for having me over today. I thought it would be good for us to get to know each other, you know, seeing as we're family now,” I chuckle, following his lead.

“Exactly, and we haven’t really had a chance to talk properly without a crowd and some mayhem around us. Here, take a seat.”

The lunch spread is immaculate. Every kind of cheese you can imagine, crackers, fruits, jams and spreads, cold cuts, boiled eggs, baby potatoes, salads—I have no idea how he expects us to eat all of this. I chuckle again as I sit down. “It looks like you're feeding an army.”

“I am, in a sense. After I’ve finished my lunch the house staff comes and sits down to enjoy the food too. I like to keep my staff happy. It's the key to good business, whether it’s at home or in the warehouse. Happy employees means they stay loyal and put in a more personalized effort.”

“Mm. That is true. Making them feel appreciated.”

“Exactly that. So, how is my little Chiara doing?”

“She is slowly adjusting. I guess it's a big move, and we're taking our time to get to know each other. Everyone who meets her adores her. She is quite a unique, special woman.”

“That she is. And smart. A strong woman just like her mother was. I think growing up without a mother forced her to be more independent. When I remarried about ten years ago, she never really connected with my wife or her son, Stefano. Then, when my second wife passed away, it was just Stefano, me, and Chiara. I guess Chiara has always been a bit of a loner, staying out of the drama of things.”

“Well, then she sounds just like me in that regard. I am certainly not a fan or drama or politics. I like to keep things clean and clear cut.”

“She gets that from her father,” Angelo smiles.

We chat easily and comfortably through lunch, and I find that I really like the guy. He comes across as genuine and down-to-earth. He has a no-nonsense, strong minded, yet mostly peaceful approach to how he thinks about things.

“You didn’t tell me we were having guests over.” Stefano marches in and pulls out a chair at the table.

“I didn’t know it was my job to report my schedule to you?” Angelo chuckles.

Stefano eyes me intensely. “What brings you here, Dubrov?”

“The finest selection of cheese in the city, of course.” I gesture to the table.

Stefano sucks his cheeks in, unimpressed with my answer.

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