Page 72 of Arranged Bratva Virgin

He throws me one last don’t ever do this again look and then leaves me alone.

Luckily Maxim knows where Marco Colombo’s offices are, and it doesn’t take us long to get there.

“You were right, there’s Stefano’s car,” Maxim says, parking next to it and climbing out quickly, not waiting for me and not bothering to even try to tell me to wait in the car.

I run in behind him, terrified about what we might be walking into.

Chapter 23 - Stefano

I am furious. I stand in my warehouse looking over the damaged shipment. I can’t believe this happened again.

Lucky for us, this time they got stopped half way through and we managed to save most of it, but I am just so fucking sick of this. Who the hell does this asshole think he is? This fucking idiot thinks he can keep coming at me like this and I won’t retaliate?

I have been paying my father’s debt in the agreed installments. Even though it still pisses me the hell off that I have to do it, I am doing it, because I am a man of my word, so he has no right to be messing with my business like this.

“Hey, have you guys got this covered? I need to go see someone.” I lift my chin towards one of my floor managers.

“Yes, sir. We can handle this.” He nods tightly.

“I want to put an end to this once and for all,” I say, gesturing over the chaos. Then with one more glance around and a tightly clamped jaw, I storm towards my car. It’s time I went to see Marco Colombo face to face so that we can sort this out once and for all, and he can learn that I am not someone he should be messing with.

I slam the car door closed and rev the engine a little too much before I wheelspin away from the parking lot.

I am hyper-focused on what I want to get done now.

I am so fucking sick of people thinking that they can mess with me.

I know that if Marco knew I was married to a Dubrov, he would never have even tried this, but I don’t want to put Darya’s name out there like that. The thought of using her as some kind of status shield makes me feel gross. She is too special. It’s never been my intention with her.

Marco should have enough respect for me just as myself to not think this is ok. The Napoli name is not worth anything.

I guess he just needs to learn his lesson the hard way.

My tires screech against the road as I take the corners too fast. I can’t even think straight, I am so hell-bent on getting my message across to him loud and clear.

When I arrive at Marco’s office, I park close to the entrance, pull the Glock from the console and tuck it at the back of my belt beneath my jacket.

I shove the door of his office building open and march right inside.

The security guard tries to stop me, and I am in such a foul mood that I just turn to him and punch him in the face. I hear his nose pop as it breaks. He collapses to the floor in pain, clutching his hand over his face and I walk away.

I push Marco’s private office door open as his receptionist ducks behind her desk with eyes that look like they are about to pop right out of her skull, she is so scared.

“Marco. I think it’s about time you and I had a little heart-to-heart,” I snarl, leaning over his desk.

He stares up at me with wide eyes, filled with shock.

“What the fuck are you doing here, and why the fuck didn’t you knock or something?”

“Stop fucking playing games with me, asshole. I've had enough of you and your arrogant bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?” Marco pushes the chair back from his desk so that he can stand up, but I move quickly around the desk and shove him back into it, my hand gripping the collar of his shirt. I am much bigger than he is, and he doesn’t stand a chance against me. My eyes are wild with anger, and he can see straight away when he looks into them that I mean business.

“Fucking asshole, let me go.” He squirms.

“Why the hell are you still fucking with my business when I am making the damned payments?”

“I’m not doing anything to your business.” His voice is tight and strained.

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