Page 22 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

They’d been at it for a while, planting seeds and making marks to try and cause an in-house division between the Italians. More than once, we put them down and always beat the shit out of them. To us, they weren’t big enough to pose a problem. At least, that was what we thought until their resistance added more members and waxed stronger.

“You’re saying we can’t just shake them off our tails then.”

His jaw flexed, and an emotion I’d never seen in my father’s eyes flickered briefly. Pain. Was it pain from the sickness or something else?

Did I really want to know?

Stubborn me, I did.

“I’m saying we’re crumbling, Leo.”

We’re crumbling.

Crumbling how?

Surely, he didn’t mean—

“Papa, you’re not saying—”

He didn’t let me finish. When he looked at me, his eyes spoke louder volumes than his words. I didn’t want to believe it, but Papa didn’t joke about these things. He didn’t joke about a life he’d thrown his entire being into, a life he’d tirelessly labored to build for years.

“It is what it is, my girl,” he said in Italian. His fingers twitched, and I knew the state of things had got to him. How bad it was, I didn’t know.

“Our powers are waning. We’re growing weak. Our people are talking.”

Growing weak?Us?

“Then let them fucking talk because it’s not true!”

“Leo.”

It was the last warning he was going to give to get my shit together and screw my head on my neck properly. What Papa needed now was a solution, something logical that would get us out of whatever ditch we’d somehow stumbled into.

But the look Papa pinned me with gave me the feeling a plan was already underway, cooked and ready to be served. And that gut feeling that never failed me told me I wasn’t going to like this plan of his.

“Papa, what we need now is for you to recover quickly, get back in that office, and run those shithead Rossis into the dirt where they belong.”

Papa’s voice was firm, and briefly, that no-nonsense aura was back. He might have been fragile in appearance but still agile at heart. “What we need now is an alliance—”

It was coming, that part I was sure I didn’t want to fucking hear.

“We need the Russians.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! No, Papa. Fuck, NO!” I was on my feet, pacing the room faster than Usain fucking Bolt. “We arenotgroveling before those bloody Russian bastards. We can handle this. We can—”

“Leonora Colombo, you will watch your tone....” When he broke into a deadly round of spitting coughs, the ache in my chest intensified, and I slowed down my pace, going to his side again.

“Papa, please, reconsider….”

He shook his head, sucking in a deep breath to steady himself. “You’re smarter than this,principessa.There’s no hiding it; you know they’re the strongest syndicate besides us. An alliance with them guarantees that the Rossis won’t stand a chance. We need them, Leo. And I fucking need you. Get yourhead in the game. We are not, and I repeat…we are not going down like cowards.”

That was it.

No more counters, no other proposals to consider another way out.

Papa needed me, and in this world, his wish was final.

Chapter 7 – Rafayel

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