Page 57 of Forced Bratva Bride

“It was horrible, Chiara.”

“I know. The bomb was apparently quite big.”

He sits up in the chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “I know. Did—uh—did anyone survive?” he asks tightly.

“They said about ten men lost their lives. There were some who got badly injured, the rest got out with scratches, or no harm at all.”

“Ten.” He swallows hard. “And their families? What are we doing to help them?”

“Dad has been handling it.”

“Does Angelo know where I am?”

“No.”

“What the fuck, Chiara. And you want to tell me I'm not a prisoner here?”

“I made the choice not to tell anyone, Stefano. I did that. Because we don’t know what is going on and I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

He falls silent, but his face is dark with anger. He won’t look at me.

“Stef, I thought it was you.”

“Me what?” he mutters.

“I thought you were the one who set the bombs at the Dubrov warehouse. But now I'm not so sure, because as much of an arrogant, angry, asshole as you are, I don’t think you are stupid enough to blow yourself up. Well, at least I hope you aren’t.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m leaving. I’m done with this shit.” He stands up, but as soon he does his leg collapses beneath him and he falls to the floor.

“Fuck, that really hurts,” he shouts.

“You need to rest, you idiot. You had a massive piece of metal in your leg. Just get back into bed and heal before you try running out of here.”

The door bursts open and Maxim rushes in. I glare at him.

“I heard shouting,” he says, staring at Stefano on the floor.

“Stefano can’t walk properly. I think he tore his stitches out.”

Maxim’s jaw clenches. He walks over to Stefano and crouches down to help him up. Stefano moves away.

“Stay on the floor, for all I care,” Maxim snaps.

Stefano takes a deep breath and wraps his arm around Max’s shoulder, letting him lift him to his feet. He helps him over to the bed and Stefano settles down, wincing in pain as he shifts his body into a more comfortable position.

I take a deep breath, feeling the tension in the room.

“I think we all need to consider that there is a third party involved messing with both of our families to make it look like we are attacking each other. Some other rival, maybe. We need to at least consider this?”

Both men avoid making eye contact with me.

Stefano huffs and leans back against the bed, closing his eyes.

Maxim leans his shoulder against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

Their silence annoys me.

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