Page 1 of Forced Bratva Bride

Chapter 1 - Gio

“Bring out the crane,” I yelled across the chaotic warehouse floor, motioning at the distribution manager to bring down the crates from the top. “The shipment is due to be collected within the hour.”

Rurik nodded and turned to a trio of rowdy young men, instructing two to climb the ladders and the third to operate the forklift.

One by one, I watched the crates being guided out, each weighing more than a thousand kilos. The warehouse, filled with dozens of men, was a collection of roaring noises and suited the occasion.

This was our first joint venture with the Ustinovs, and by extension, the Vadims. Both Bratva families wanted us—the Lebedevs—to be in charge as a show of faith since Kate Ustinov married my brother. With Caspian and Kate off enjoying the white sands of Mexico for their honeymoon, that left me to play goddamn referee.

After years of enmity, the Lebedevs and Ustinovs were finally allies and I wanted to make sure everything went off perfectly. From New York, I was to see off our latest shipment of arms, bound for Russia. From there, the Ustinovs’ and Vadims’ network was to collect and distribute these weapons to the highest bidders across Europe.

The money to be made was in the tens of millions, and I had been at the warehouse all day, making sure nothing went wrong.

Just then, I heard an explosion so loud that I barely registered the flash of light. The force of the blast sent me flying, crashing into crates and debris. All around me, I heard screams.

I fell to the ground in panic, covering my eyes and head, trying to take deep breaths to ease the pain that roared in my ears. I oriented myself and when I looked up to see what was happening, the left quadrant of the warehouse was in flames.

I pushed myself off the ground, despite the ringing in my ears, and scanned the area. Some of our men were scrambling in fear, rushing toward the exit.

Fuck. We’d been bombed.

Through the haze, I spotted Rurik, blood trickling down his forehead as he helped a couple of injured men to safety. I rushed to his side, sliding an arm under the other side of the injured man Rurik was trying to take out of the warehouse.

Rurik looked over at me, his face ashen-white. “Boss,” he said. “Who could have done this?”

“Let’s make sure everyone’s safe first, then we’ll figure out the rest,” I said, through gritted teeth. All around me, I saw destruction. Our pristine warehouse was now a graveyard of fallen beams, broken crates and ashen walls. The extent of the damage made me feel so damn angry, I could have punched a hole through a wall.

This wasn’t just an attack on our business; it was personal. Whoever planted this bomb could have killed any of us. I shuddered at the thought. What if Caspian had been here? What if he’d been standing next to the bomb? A few more feet, and I might not have walked out of here.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than revenge.

Once outside, I gathered the managers. “Do a head count,” I instructed, watching as a few men ran to douse out the flames before they spread.

Ten minutes later, Rurik returned. “Boss,” he said with a look of relief. “No casualties. Nine injured. Two are being taken to the hospital as we speak.”

I clamped Rurik on his back. “You’ve brought good news,” I said, finally allowing myself a small smile. But, that didn’t mean all was forgotten. There might have been no casualties, but they did injure my men, they did ruin our plans.

The message behind the attack was crystal clear. Someone wanted to rattle us and probably wished to crack this fragile new alliance we’ve formed with the Bratva families.

“Make sure the fire is out,” I told Rurik. “Ensure everyone gets back safely, and call for back-up. Divert a shipment to a safe house for today, and inform the receivers to expect a delay of a few days. Call logistics to create a new shipping route in case our current one has been compromised. Don’t leave the goods unguarded tonight. Call for back-up and then go home. After that, get some rest, Rurik.”

“Understood, Boss,” Rurik nodded, not prying any further. I needed to get out of here and find some goddamn answers.

Who the hell was responsible for this attack?

I walked through the wreckage, feeling angrier with each injured man still working to keep us strong. Upon reaching the car, I spotted a dart stuck to the door handle. It had a piece of paper attached with a message scrawled in bold black letters: “traitors.”

I froze in place as I read the word again. At the back of my mind, I knew then just who was responsible for this attack. The Italians. It had to be one of them.

With our new alliance in place, Caspian had warned me that the Italians weren’t happy with our family. There were rumors amongst the families, he had said in passing once, that we’d betrayed our Italian heritage by shaking hands with the Russians.

Those wretched, emotional bastards,I thought to myself in anger. It was just like them to forget that while the Lebedevs were half Italian, we werealsohalf Russian.

But of course, where matters of power were concerned, some of the clans chose to go down an unprecedented route. They used this alliance as an excuse to finally do what they always wished—usurp us from our apex position. I could only imagine the smaller families holding meetings to unite against us, planning and plotting to use this opportunity to get ahead.

They were so short-sighted in their quest to prove themselves stronger than we were, that they forgot the one rule we had amongst each other—we may compete, but never tear another down.

They saw an opportunity to tear us down and took it by breaking the silent agreement between Italian Mafia families not to interfere with each other’s businesses.

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