Page 25 of Forced Bratva Bride

“Angelo, one of our shipments was delayed, we need to pay a fee—"

“Stefano, this is a social lunch, not a business lunch.”

“Delayed shipments affect everything. Perhaps if you paid more attention to that side of things, you would realize—"

“Stefano,” Angelo warns. “You wanted to take over the more aggressive side of the business. You practically begged me for control of that aspect, and I granted it to you. That means that if there are problems there, I expect you to be able to sort them out without my help. I have not been involved in any of that for over six months now. And I certainly do not want to discuss them at lunch.”

Angelo’s face is stern, yet not confrontational. He delivers his words soundly, making himself clear.

“Maxim, how to you smuggle larger shipments—"

“Stefano.” Angelo stands up, his voice still calm, but his eyes have an intense warning in them. “Conversations like that have a time and place. And this is not it.”

“My bothers handle that side of things anyway, so if you want to discuss it, I suggest you get in touch with one of them,” I add, noticing Stefano’s eye twitch in anger as he tries to control a near outburst.

He seems to be a man who struggles to keep his emotions in check, and all of his emotions seem to revolve around aggression.

His comments also have my attention for the simple fact that I now know that he is the one who manages the smuggling, and Angelo has not been involved in that part of the business for six months. That means that Stefano is my primary suspect.

The difference between the two men is staggering, Angelo being diplomatic, welcoming, and easy to be around while Stefano is a tense, aggravated man who seems angry at the fork he is holding. Angry at everything and everyone.

With Stefano at the lunch table with us, the atmosphere changes completely, and I find myself no longer enjoying the visit. I wait a polite thirty minutes after his arrival, then stand up. “Angelo, it has been a fantastic lunch, you’ve outdone yourself. Next time I will have to have you over to my place, and I'll do my best to deliver the same level of incredible food. And, of course, the pleasant company.”

Angelo stands as well, smiling. Stefano remans seated, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest as he glares at me with hatred in his eyes. What the fuck is this guy’s problem? He needs to pull the stick out of his ass.

“Maxim, any time, my boy. Any time. You say when and I will come and visit.”

Angelo walks me out to my car, we say goodbye again, and then I am on my way back home.

My head is swimming in new directions based on what I've learned today. I'll get in touch with my brothers tonight to tell them to take a close look into Stefano. I want to know his background, and what role exactly he plays in Angelo’s business.

When I arrive back home, I head inside, and immediately ask about Chiara.

Even though I hardly spend any proper time with her, I find that I've missed her, missed just having her in the same space as me.

“She left a few hours ago,” the housekeeper tells me.

“Left for where?”

“She and my daughter went to the mall.”

“She went shopping with your daughter? Why?”

“They were just chatting and decided to go. I am not sure, sir.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial the bodyguard that is on duty for Chiara today.

“Dameon, where are you now? Is Chiara safe?”

“Sir? I'm at the main property. I’m not with Chiara.”

“What do you mean you're not with her? She's out. You are supposed to be with her,” I snap.

“I asked her this morning to call me as soon as she wants to go anywhere and she said she would. I thought she was still at home, she never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.” I grit my teeth and slam the phone down.

Immediately I dial Chiara, starting to pace up and down the hallway in agitation as I wait, listening to the constant unanswered ringing.

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