Page 54 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

And he didn’t know how hard I restrained myself from beating him to a pulp until he needed a hospital.

“—they were going to betray us somehow, one way or the other, because that’s what they are—fucking snakes.”

“Get to the fucking point!”

Ivan flinched, coming out from the haze of his anger to see the promise of murder in my eyes if he kept talking. He handed me the envelope and continued speaking while I ripped the brown paper to take out the pictures.

My blood ran cold when I recognized the two men in the photograph, and for the tiniest split of a second, my beating heart missed a step. I eyed Ivan over the pictures, and the look on his face said it all; this was not a fucking joke. It wasn’t doctored or tampered with. His intentions were good, and that was all the fuel I needed to stoke the fire blazing like an inferno inside my chest.

“They said they needed you to help them fight off Rossi. So why’s Enzo meeting him frequently? You’re not asking me, but I’ll tell you. Leo, Luca, Enzo. Bad combination for the Bratva. They could have only had one reason for this alliance, Rafa: to rip you from the inside out.”

I knew what he was going to say next but didn’t want to hear it.

Ivan said it anyway.

“She’s playing with you, Boss.”

And that confirmed what I’d already known from the beginning.

Fuck her.

Fuck all women.

Not one of them could be trusted. Not anyone really.

I grabbed my phone, putting Tikhon on speed dial. “Rafa—”

“I need Leonora’s IP address and her exact location right fucking now.”

Chapter 16 – Leonora

“Hi, again.”

Like a tree rooted in the soil, I stayed put. I was too stunned to speak, too angry to move. Papa was just seated there. With more gray hair scattered on his head and littered among the scruff on his jaw, he appeared frailer than he was at the last minute. His body slouched on the wheelchair, and the glow in his eyes was dull and tired. But he was smiling. Smiling because of whatever he’d discussed with this so-called visitor in the room.

“You.” I finally found my voice, but it lacked the strength I needed to confront him. “What are you doing here? Papa, why is he here?”

“Sit down,principessa.”

“But Papa—”

“Fucking sit down, Leonora. Goddamn it.” Papa dragged his hand down his eyes, and I obeyed, but only because he started coughing again.

I looked between Luca and Papa. This was a dream. This wasn’t happening. And if Papa thought I was just going to sit down without saying a word in the same room with the man who had the nerve to punch me in the face, he had another thing coming.

Papa had to know one of his children inherited a full dose of his stubbornness.

“I’m sitting, Papa. Now, I need to know what the hell is going on and why this man is here.”

“Thisman, principessa,” he pointed a shaky finger to a grinning Luca, “E il Messia.”

He is the messiah.

Papa’s illness had worsened. That was the only possible explanation for whatever lunacy he was experiencing now. Maybe he didn’t understand, or maybe the sickness affected his vision.

“Papa, the man you’re pointing at is Luca Rossi,” I pointed out. “As in the Rossi capo that has sought tirelessly to overthrow you and bring everything you’ve worked hard to build to ruin. You’re entering him with warmth and tequila.”

After my announcement, I expected Papa to frown, rain thunder on everyone, and order Marco to bundle the man to the basement and chop his fingers for daring to enter his home. I expected this sudden nightmare to end.

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