Page 31 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

That was the crux of it. This wasn’t just an alliance; it was a consolidation of power. The Colombos’ connections with corrupt officials and their knack for gathering intelligence complemented our brute force and economic control.

We’d be untouchable.

“And,” I said, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth, “there’s the added benefit of mutual deterrence.”

Leonora’s eyes sparkled with something close to satisfaction. But before she opened her mouth, someone else shifted outside the blur.

He stuck his mouth close to her ear, and his hair brushed her neck when she shifted closer to hear him. It disturbed me that she looked comfortable enough to turn to him with a genuine smile that I’d never been a first-hand witness of.

What started as an uncomfortable pinch gnawing at the back of my mind inflated in the hollows of my chest until the hair on my skin rose and heat prickled over my neck at the back of my ear.

I gritted my teeth.

What was this? And who the fuck was he?

Amusingly, this man was familiar. I’d seen him stand guard by Enzo a few times at social events, and if I recalled correctly, I’d heard his name more than a few times.

“Marco.”

Startled, he turned, and I ignored her questioning gaze.

“Marco, is it?”

“Si. It is.”

“I’m not sure how it works where you come from, but an interruption like that in a meeting as important as this is unacceptable unless it’s connected to the discussion at hand.”

Murmurs broke out, more in Italian undertones than Russian. They questioned my audacity to speak to one of their own with such incredulous authority. Vasili’s hand hovered below his jacket, and Maxim’s side-eye waited for a signal.

I shook my head, and Vasili released his hand from his belt.

Beside me, I caught Tikhon’s exasperated eye roll, and the other two Italian culprits exchanged glances. Marco sat upright, chest out, and eyes meaning business. He’d caught my insinuation, and I assumed by his body language that he didn’t like it.

As if I gave a fuck what he cared.

“As a matter of fact, it was connected to the discussion. We’re displaying everything on the table, but we’ve barely gotten any assurances from your end, except an informal confirmation of your acceptance.”

I didn’t bother with him. I faced her.

“Last time I checked, you came to me. Not the other way round.”

Leonora offered Marco a cryptic smile and touched his arm. I suppressed a frown at the movement, keeping my eyes on her face instead.

“Marco is Papa’s right hand. You can understand why he has his reservations.”

“No, I cannot.” My seat suddenly felt hot, and the sight of her hand still lingering on his arm disturbed me enough to want to shoot something. Or better yet, shove his reservations down his throat.

Tikhon grumbled indistinctly under his breath, but I caught the Russian words about breaking a sweat. My frustration might not be obvious to the others in the room, but he was catching every waving signal.

My lips twitched into a half-smile. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I prefer to keep my cards close to my chest. Actions speak louder than words. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. If either of you doubted the prospects of this alliance, you would not be seated here.”

My small speech seemed to calm Marco down, and Leonora gave a convincing nod of gratitude, however brief. The rest of our conversation flowed with a mix of tension and precision, every word weighted, every glance calculated. I could feel the undercurrents of their ambition in the room, which was as charged and eager as ours.

By the time we adjourned, the outlines of the alliance were firming up, though the details would take a few more days to finalize. As we rose from our seats, my men followed Tikhon out of the door, and Leonora whispered to Marco before her heels approached me. I didn’t miss the murderous look in Marco’s eyes directed at me before he led her men out of the office.

The door closed, and I perched at the edge of the table, one leg kicked out and my hand crossed over my thighs when she drew nearer.

Up close afforded me a better view of the slit on her skirt cutting high above knee-level that I itched to see again.

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