Page 2 of Arranged Bratva Virgin

I pick up my jacket from the back of the chair I slung it over earlier and slip my arms into the custom fit. It looks good.

I run my hands through my dark blonde hair and over my stubbled jaw.

Looking in the hallway mirror, I notice that my amber eyes look almost yellow today. It must be the nervous excitement of what I am about to suggest to the Dubrov brothers.

I chuckle, pick up my car keys and head for the door.

You are asking for trouble, Stefano.

But you never get what you don’t ask for, so it’s worth the risk.

***

Arriving at Paval Dubrov’s mansion, I park in front of the house, next to the other cars that are already there. Climbing out of my Mercedes, I straighten my jacket and walk boldly towards the front door. There is a mix of emotions simmering just beneath the surface of my skin. Agitation over this morning’s phone call seems to be the most prominent, or perhaps it is nerves about what I'm about to propose.

Either way, I feel on edge.

I bite down and feel my jaw flex.

As I walk into the house, I pull off my sunglasses and look around.

“They are outside on the patio, sir.” The doorman nods a greeting and gestures for me to make my way out to the pool area.

Kiril greets me first, standing near the door holding a glass filled with ice and clear liquid.

“Stefano, good morning.”

“Morning,” I grumble. Kiril looks relaxed, as though he doesn’t have a problem in the world. All of the brothers do, actually. The power imbalance between us is so apparent. They have it all. And I want it.

Paval, Ivan and Maxim stand up to shake my hand, slap me on the shoulder and greet me with warm, welcoming smiles.

“Stefano, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright, I guess, but we do have some things that we need to talk about.”

“I assumed so, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked for this meeting.” Paval smiles. “Take a seat, let’s get started. Kiril, come sit, we’re ready to start.”

The brothers each take a seat at the table, and I pull my chair out to join them. As I sit down, Darya walks out carrying an iced tea. My skin instantly tingles as the air becomes charged.

“Good morning, Stefano,” she says, her sweet voice causing my heart to stampede against my ribcage. She walks over to the table and places her drink down at the seat opposite mine. She sits, smiles at me, and tucks a strand of her long caramel hair behind her ear. Her bright blue eyes are locked onto me, pulling me towards her as though enticing me into a dream.

“Good morning, Darya,” I say, struggling to pull my eyes away from her gaze.

Paval glances over to her. “Darya, you don’t have to join us if you don’t feel like it—"

“I’m perfectly fine where I am, thanks,” she says bluntly, with a slight tilt at the corner of her mouth. I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much. She hardly speaks to me, and always looks a little sour when I try to interact with her. She manages to maintain a polite distance between us whenever I attend family dinners or events with her brothers.

I am dying to know more about her. I am dying to get close to her.

Actually, I am surprised to see her here. I wasn’t expecting this. It throws my plan off a bit. Because how can I demand what I want to with her sitting right there, looking at me?

I clear my throat. “Thanks for seeing me today. Business is good, but I am still struggling with constant threats, and despite our alliance and agreement, my name is not holding as much weight as I would need it to in order to grow the business the way we planned. There is a lot of room for improvement if my name were to hold more status.”

Kiril spins his drink in his hand. He eyes me closely. “We have given you our full public support, Stefano, letting our own allies know that you are basically one of us. I am not sure what more we can do for you. What did you have in mind? Something specific?”

“You say you have let them know that I am basically one of you, but we all know that I am not. I would like to become part of the family in a more official capacity.”

Paval leans forward with his arms resting on the table. “I am not sure I understand.”

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