Page 15 of Bratva Bride

"Fine. Just trying to be hospitable," Father said, waving the woman off. She quickly scurried out of the room like a mouse. "What kind of guns do you wa—

"What do you have?" Vincenzo interrupted.

"Tupoy ublyudok."Stupid fucker, I whispered in Russian.

Arturo narrowed his eyes.

Did he understand what I said?

My father immediately pinned his dark glare on Vincenzo the second he spoke. I could see the rigid cords in his neck, see his eyes bulging with anger. Hedespisedwhen people interrupted him. It was one of hisbiggestpet peeves and if I was Vincenzo, I'd be shitting my fucking pants under that death glare.

"Watch who you're talking to boy," my father hissed, spit flying across the table.

"Maybe it'syouwho should watch out forme,old man," Vincenzo said, grabbing an apple from the middle of the table and kicking his feet up.

Did this kid have a fucking death wish?

Arturo's gaze was on me and my pulse spiked as I felt his eyes crawl all over me, but I kept my focus on my father. His blue eyes looked to me and he gave me the slightest nod. Barely recognisable, but I saw it.

As Vincenzo brought the apple to his lips and bit into it, I quickly pulled out a throwing knife from inside my coat and flung it straight at him. The blade flew through the air, piercing the apple with textbook precision.

Vincenzo sat frozen in place, the apple in his mouth, his hands still gripping the sides with my blade stuck right in the middle. He slowly pulled the apple away from his face and held it up in the air, looking at it with bewilderment. His green eyes landed on me and I could see the fire burning from within.

"V sleduyushchiy raz eto budet tvoy glaz."Next time, it'll be your eye,I said in Russian, my eyes fixed firmly on Vincenzo.

"I have no idea what the fuck you just said and I don't care. That was hot as fuck," he breathed, his green eyes sparkling with desire. His lips curved into a sly smile and he waved his fingers in the air at me, like he was saying hi.

"Enough, Vincenzo," Arturo barked.

"Enough, both of you!" Alessandro snapped, slamming his hands on the table. "My apologies, Dimitri. Please, continue."

My father leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on his chin. "What guns do you want?" he asked, repeating his earlier question.

My eyes locked onto Vincenzo's to make sure he kept his mouth shut this time. He smirked and winked at me.

"Your standard MP5s and M60s as well as some higher ordnance pieces for my boys and I. DAR-701-4s, to be precise. A few high-powered rifles, and some semi-automatic handguns as well should do the trick," Alessandro said casually, like he was ordering a meal at a fucking restaurant.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Aleksandr pull out his phone and began texting away, most likely to see exactly what we had available. I knew we had plenty of MP5s and M60s, but the Canadian submachine gun (the DAR-701-4s) might be a little harder to track down.

"And in return?" my father questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"What do you want?" Alessandro asked, leaning back into his chair.

Expansion. My father's voice fluttered through my brain.

"I want more, Alessandro. More territory, more money, more power. If you can't help me with that, then this negotiation is over," Father said briskly.

Maxim chuckled from behind me, amused at my father's words.

Arturo's blue-green eyes flicked up to Maxim. A dark, evil look crossed his face, one that screamed danger. Pain. It was a look you gave your enemies before you stepped out onto the battlefield, one used to intimidate, to make them cower.

I sucked in a breath at the darkness radiating from him, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. Arturo glanced at me and his gaze turned predatory, like a man honing in on a woman he wanted to fuck.

Maxim grumbled loudly enough for the whole damn room to hear him and caused a smile to break out over Arturo's face.

"That, I can most certainly help you with my friend," Alessandro chuckled. "More territory? Simple. Take Chicago once this is all over. I don't want it, nor do I need it. One of your sons can rule in your place if you see fit. More money? Easy. With our distribution already set up in New York City, we'll sell your guns for a small percentage. More power? Well, that's something perhaps you and I should discuss in private," Alessandro finished, his gaze sweeping the men standing behind my father.

I couldn't figure out if he was just a cautious person or if he genuinely didn't trust our men.

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