Page 41 of Forced Bratva Bride

Larissa turned to face him warmly and told him she was doing well. I watched as they exchanged some polite conversation where Federico thanked her again and Larissa politely waved him off, asking him not to mention it.

But there was something in his tone I caught on to. A sense of inquiry. When I averted my gaze from them, I noticed the rest of my siblings hovering, holding on to every word she said.

My worst fears were becoming a reality. My siblings were more than curious about her role in my life. I sensed it from the way they lingered nearby and made her the center of attention.

Dante walked up to me and handed me a whiskey. I took a measured sip as he turned to Larissa. “So what’s the plan? How long do you plan to stay…with Gio?”

My sisters’ heads whipped in my direction, followed by Larissa’s. I watched Larissa blush as she sipped her wine. “Oh, I don’t know just yet.”

“It’s been what?” Luca asked. “Two months now?”

“Two months?” Bea’s eyes widened as she exchanged a look with Elena. “Really?”

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as I observed the exchange between my siblings and Larissa. Their prying questions and knowing glances set me on edge. I knew what they were thinking—that there was more to my relationship with Larissa than I had let on.

“Won’t your family miss you, Larissa? I recall you mentioned living in Russia. Where are they based now, again?” Dante asked, his piercing gaze fixed on me, waiting to see how I would react.

But before I could step in with a cover-up answer, Larissa smoothly intervened, placing a hand on my arm as she smiled at Dante.

“It's complicated, you know how it is,” she said with a casual shrug, her eyes meeting each of my siblings in turn. “Gio's been nothing but a gentleman to me. Just a friend helping me out when I needed it.”

“A friend,” Achille wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Or is it something… more complicated?” he used her own words on her.

“It’s just that,” Dante added in a polite tone. “You’re unusual company for Gio.”

“He’s usually not the kind to enjoy house guests,” Luca remarked.

“In fact,” Elena’s eyes widened. “I don’t think anyone’s stayed in his house for two months.”

“What my tactful siblings are trying to say,” Achille chimed in, arriving with a plate piled high with food, “is that he’s never brought a woman to family dinner before. So, either you're sleeping with him or you’re very important. Or both.”

I felt my blood turn cold as I turned to Achille and growled in warning. I fought the urge to loosen my collar. The room suddenly felt too warm, too crowded, and I was furious at Achille for bringing up the suggestion that we might be sleeping together.

“Achille,” I took a step toward him, to warn him off in private, but Larissa stepped right in between her. Her eyes, I noticed, were wide, and her cheeks flushed, but she smiled politely at the room.

“Giovanni's been kind enough to show me around the city,” Larissa's voice cut through the tension. “I'm just visiting, and he's been the perfect tour guide.”

The lies fell from her lips so naturally that, for a moment, even I believed them. She slid to my side, her shoulder brushing mine in solidarity.

“A tour guide,” Federico snorted. “Is that what they're calling it these days?”

Larissa's smile didn't falter. “Your brother and I are friends. Nothing more complicated than that.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged resignedly.

“Oh, stop bothering her now, will you?” Bea commented, trying to simmer down the tension.

“Yes, let’s eat, before Achille finishes it all up,” Elena said, eyeing her brother's plate warily.

Larissa giggled, and Achille shrugged, mouthing a what through a full mouth. The company broke out into corners, some going to refill plates, my sisters now teasing Achille on his appetite. I took this moment to grab Larissa by her arm and whispered to her, “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

“Of course,” Larissa gushed, picking up her glass of wine to follow me out. If eyes lingered at our movement, I didn’t care.

“They're wonderful,” Larissa said as we stepped into the hallway. “You're lucky to have such a close family.”

I didn’t acknowledge her statement as I led her toward the terrace doors overlooking the gardens. I led her to a secluded corner, away from the windows, where no one could see us.

“What's your angle?” I asked without wasting a word.

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