Page 23 of Forced Bratva Bride

“Your brothers,” I bellowed, “bombed my warehouse on the east side. Two weeks ago. Nearly killed fifteen of my men.”

“I don't...” she started.

“Don't give me that bullshit!” My voice rose, and I saw her shoulders tense. “Your family has been eyeing our family’s position since you were born. Your brothers have always been jealous.”

Her chin lifted. “My brothers don't hurt people.”

A laugh tore from my throat, bitter and sharp. “There’s three ways I see this, Larissa. Either you’re lying to yourself, you’re lying to me, or it’s a truth you know and don’t want to face. There’s only one way I see now to make you acknowledge the truth to me. It’s to show you who your brothers truly are.”

Something flickered across her face—doubt, maybe—but she shook her head. “Whatever do you mean? It’s none of those things. I told you, they wouldn’t—“

“They wouldn't what? Kill? Torture? Traffic?” She shook her head as I continued to speak. “What fantasy world do you live in, Larissa? Do you think the Italian Mafia made their fortune selling pasta and good wine?”

“They're not like that,” she insisted, but her voice had lost some of its conviction. “They protect our community. They help people who need it.”

I studied her face, searching for the tell—the micro expression that would give away her act. But all I saw was genuine belief. Either she was the best actress I'd ever encountered, or...

No. It wasn't possible. No one in our world stayed innocent past childhood.

“You know what?” I said, a plan already formed as my temper cooled. “I'm done arguing. You want to believe your brothers are saints? Fine. I'll show you exactly what kind of men they are.”

Fear sharpened her features. “What does that mean?”

I didn't answer, just pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed. “Dmitri. Bring the car around.”

“What are you doing?” Larissa's voice had risen, panic edging into it.

I tucked the phone away and moved to the closet, pulling out a dark jacket. “We're going for a drive.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you.” She planted her feet, arms crossed.

Her defiance that I so admired now grated at my nerves. “You don't have a choice. But if it makes you feel better, I'm not taking you to hurt you. I'm taking you to see the truth about your precious brothers, about you, or perhaps my delusions as you call it.” I tossed her the jacket. “Put this on. After this, one of us is going to be proven wrong.”

She caught it reflexively but didn't move to put it on.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “I’ll drag you from here if I have to.”

Something in my tone must have convinced her I meant it. With trembling fingers, she pulled on the jacket. It swallowed her frame, making her look even smaller, more vulnerable.

The thought sent an unwelcome pang through my chest. I pushed it aside.

“When we go out there, for God's sake, don't try to run.” I motioned for her to walk through the door. “My men will be everywhere, and they won't be as gentle as I am if they have to chase you down.”

Her eyes flashed with indignation. “Gentle? You kidnapped me!”

“And you're still breathing, walking, and unharmed. In my world, that counts as gentle.” I steered her toward the door. “Now move.”

***

I ushered Larissa into the backseat of the car and slid in beside her.

“The pier,” I told the driver. “Find us a vantage point with cover. I want to see the Ajello loading dock without being seen.”

The driver nodded and took off. Our security convoy was distributed in front of us and behind to protect us from any attacks.

Larissa sat rigidly beside me, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She remained quiet, choosing the silent treatment as a weapon of rebellion. I let her have it, as I had nothing to say to her either. I was so sick and tired of her lies, feeling as though every inquiry I made into her intentions was met by a dead wall.

But once she saw the violence that occurred in her brothers’ operations and realized I had seen it too, the pretenses would have to fall. I knew the Ajellos well enough to sense that trouble was always present when they were involved.

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