Page 20 of Stolen By The Bratva King

“Dante Firenze is not a criminal, and neither am I,” he says, slamming his hand onto the desk. “We put our capital into honest investments, dammit!”

“Maybeyoudid,” I reply, swirling my drink and making the ice clink against the glass. “But it doesn’t matter now. I bailed you out already—I lose more money at the Baccarat tables in an hour—but I don’t do favors without getting something in return.”

Alec’s eyes flash with a spark of hope. “I can repay you with interest. How does five percent suit you?”

Five percent? He knows who I am. The bratva doesn’t offer loans with respectable market rates. It’d be twenty percent, calculated weekly if I was in a good mood.

But this isn’t about money. I’m not here to skim a profit off his misfortune. I’m here to take everything.

“You don’t have to give me the money back at all, and I can make all the legal stuff go away.”

I throw back the whiskey with a grimace; it’s expensive, but I never liked it. “But there’s something I want, and nothing else will do.”

Alec watches me like a crippled bird watches a cat. He knows he cannot escape but would rather see the attack coming.

I allow the loaded silence to stretch, savoring the tension, before I drop the bomb.

“I want your daughter,” I say. “I want Emery.”

It didn’t take long for the old man to see my point of view. I even gave him the skinny on Dante’s abusive ways; it’s all true, and if it eases his conscience over what will happen on Friday, then so much the better.

Back in my penthouse, I flip open my laptop, bringing up the camera feeds I had installed in her apartment.

It was a simple job; I made a copy of her key for Viktor, and he had it all set up by noon. Tiny, hidden cameras, all strategically placed to keep her in view.

We hacked the hospital’s security long ago; it’s helpful when we need to keep tabs on injured snitches who might be inclined to talk to the cops in return for immunity.

More than one traitor has been outed by a well-placed audio recording, only to die mysteriously from unknown ‘complications of treatment.’

Now I can watch Emery at work and at home, and Niki has the whole setup streaming to my phone and laptop.

It’s not all about my obsessive game-playing. I killed two men last night, men hired by Dante to watch his fiancée.

If I were in his shoes, I’d be checking in with them regularly. He may get antsy and high-tail it back to New York.

I told Alec to reassure Dante that Emery was fine. That should be enough to assuage his suspicions, but you never know. Not that I need to justify myself to anyone.

Emery is in my pocket, exactly where she belongs. Now everything is in motion, and I can relax at home.

My place is beautiful but lacks the home comforts of Emery’s apartment. It was interesting to notice all her small, personal touches: the Studio Ghibli figurines and the sad little arrangement of fake flowers by her bedroom window—details that make her space hers.

I found the order form from her wedding planner pinned to her notice board, full of red-inked notes for things she wanted but had to do without.

Sending the bouquet was easy, but calling that Krissy woman was a gamble. It all worked out; she was so dazzled by my ostentatiousness that she never asked a single question.

Referring to myself as Emery’s future husband gave me a thrill I didn’t expect. After all, it’s true, even if Emery doesn’t know it yet.

With Alec sworn to secrecy and my men loyal to the bone, the trap is in place. The city’s elite will watch as Dante’s control crumbles around him.

It’s a rare pleasure orchestrating a public humiliation on this scale, and I can hardly wait.

I sit on my bed and load the camera feeds. I’m not surprised that Emery isn’t on the hospital camera—her shift ended an hour ago.

This week, and every second, minute, and hour after that, belongs to me.

Her apartment feed shows she’s not home yet, which is perfect. I settle back on my pillows, cranking up the volume so I won’t miss a single sound.

She’s already mine, whether she wants to be or not. And I intend to make sure she knows it.

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