Page 63 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

Andnow he was faced with the one thing his power couldn’t undo—his precious daughter carrying my child.

The irony tasted sweeter than the finest vodka. I watched the conflict play across his face—rage, disgust, and a flicker of helplessness. And I relished every second of it.

"End your alliance with Rossi. This is not a negotiation, Enzo. It’s a fucking warning. If you insist on keeping Luca at your side, I will bring both of you down and won’t lose sleep over it.”

His jaw tightened, and I caught the flicker of rebellion in his eyes. But before he could utter a word, I cut him off.

"The reason I brought you here, take it that I’m only showing you this sliver of mercy because of Leonora. The thought of her in distress during her pregnancy.... Well, even I have my limits. But don’t mistake my leniency for weakness.”

Before I left, I placed the pictures in front of the table, letting him take in every detail.

There they were—Luca and some woman, smiling at each other, standing at an altar in Italy. The images had been carefully selected, proof of what I had uncovered. A little digging, a few well-placed questions, and I’d learned that Luca Rossi had a wife. Something Enzo clearly hadn’t known.

I watched the surprise hit him like a punch. I could see it in his eyes, the shock and more confusion.

Enzo hadn’t expected this, hadn’t known that the man who’d been so eager to marry his daughter and form an alliance was already bound to someone else. His expression twisted with anger, and I allowed the silence to stretch between us.

"You have a choice, Enzo. Make the right one, or I will ensure you both regret it."

I turned around and started to walk away.

“Rafayel. Wait.”

My head snapped quickly to be certain that it was Enzo who called me and not someone else. The mask of rebellion was gone, and what remained was regret.

He looked older, much sicker.

And when he looked up, his hands were shaking and cheeks trembling. “Whatever you do, please don’t hurt my daughter.”

He was a sorry sight. Pathetic. Couldn’t even do the damn deal right for the sake of the daughter he claimed he loved. But who was I to judge? It was the first time I’d witnessed his weakness first-hand.

No man walking the face of the Earth, ally or rival, could deny Enzo Colombo as a good parent. He fucking loved his children more than life itself and could off a man for daring to look at them the wrong way. It didn’t matter how much money was involved; he was ready to go to any length for them.

While I headed to my car, it made me think.

I had never imagined myself in this position, not in a thousand years, to have the weight of impending fatherhood pressed on me. I didn’t fancy myself a good person, or have a good heart, or any of that weakness Enzo displayed a moment ago. But these things were needed to raise a child, were they not?

I didn’t know. My father wasn’t the best bloody example. His techniques were the absolute worst, and I hated the bastard too much anyway. I could ask my brother. I didn’t know how he navigated through, but he had.

If it were up to me, my entire lineage would be screwed. A child was on the way, and I damn well wasn’t prepared.

Chapter 20 – Leonora

“Thank you.” I smiled up at the quiet maid who was retreating. She didn’t talk very much, but I successfully got to pry her name out of her. Mary. Varya was ill, and, on Rafayel’s orders, I needed to be looked after round the clock, so she had to stand in.

The door closed behind her, leaving the delicious aroma of the Russian breakfast she’d brought in and placed on the bedside table: blini, caviar, and a steaming cup of tea.

I stared at the food but couldn’t eat. A sense of unease I couldn’t shake gnawed at me, a feeling that had been growing since the moment Rafayel had stepped out earlier. Updates. I was dry on them. I couldn’t remember the last time I wasn’t involved in the action. As much as the silence was welcomed, I needed feedback.

It felt like I was starving without any.

I couldn’t stand being cooped up inside. Sometimes, it was suffocating, but what choice did I have? Rafayel had made it clear that I wasn’t allowed to go outside. He said it was dangerous. Dangerous? As if I didn’t know what that felt like.

I laughed in the face of danger—until I cried.Sometimes.

But, as much as I hated it, I listened. I’d never been good at arguing with him, not when his voice was firm and he threatened me with those eyes of his. I also understood that it was for the protection of our baby.

Still.

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