Page 69 of Bratva Bride

She leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks, her lips a brush away from mine before stepping back. She turned to Illayana and smiled. “Congratulations. I’m Gabriella, one of Arturo’s oldest friends, it’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.

Illayana smiled back but I saw the anger that flashed in her eyes. She shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Gabriella looked at me, her eyes running the length of my body in an obvious show of perusal. “I always said red was your colour, didn’t I?” she said, brushing her fingers lightly over my shoulder, as if wiping away a speck of dirt.

The contact showed familiarity and based on the way Illayana’s eyes narrowed at the touch, she didn’t miss it.

I smiled stiffly. “You did.”

Enzo and his wife, Sofia, gave their congratulations next, Enzo’s short and brisk and Sofia’s quiet and respectful. Throwing one last smile my way, Gabriella and her family moved on.

I raised my finger in the air, halting the next group of people who were about to make their way over to offer their congratulations and turned to face Illayana. Her face didn’t show any trace of anger, but her eyes? Yeah, that was definitely anger sparkling in those shiny blue orbs.

“About Gabriella-”

“Not now,” she said sharply, a fake smile plastered on her face.

I narrowed my eyes. “Fine, we’ll discuss it later then.”

“You bet your ass we will,” she grumbled under her breath.

I turned back around and motioned the next group of people forward.

After a while, all the faces seemed to mash together and all I wanted was for this whole tedious ordeal to be over. We were greeted by all the key players within the Cosa Nostra and the Bratva, each one offering their heartfelt congratulations for our union. But I wasn't buying it. Nope. Half, if not all the people here, objected to joining our families. If they all weren't so terrified of Dimitri and Alessandro, I can bet they would have objected quite vocally at the ceremony.

I shook every hand that appeared before me, even if I had no clue who the damn person was. Illayana was just as polite, smiling and engaging in small talk with everyone that offered their blessings. Yet I could see the strain on her face after what felt like the thousandth guest greeted us.

Just when I thought we were free and clear, a deep voice spoke from behind us. We both turned around to find Dimitri standing there, a woman on his arm.

Huh. A little young for you Dimitri, but each to their own, I guess.

I was confused as to why he was coming to congratulate us again, until Illayana responded, her voice cold and emotionless.

"Uncle."

Uncle?!

It took every bit of self control I had not to react to that. Dimitri's a twin?! An identical twin? Why was I never told this? Better yet, why the fuck did none of the information I collected about the Volkov family mention it?

Dimitri 2.0 laughed, his big body shaking with amusement as he studied Illayana.

"Akh, moya dorogaya plemyannitsa. Vy vsegda byli v sostoyanii otlichit' nas. Skazhi mne, ditya, v chem tvoy sekret?"Ah, my darling niece. You've always been able to tell us apart. Tell me child, what's your secret?

Illayana pressed her lips firmly together, her eyes locked with his in an icy glare. It was painfully obvious she didn't care for the man.

Curiosity spiked within me. I was dying to know the story here.

"Ya znayu, kto moy otets Dominik."I know who my father is, Dominik.

He smouldered with resentment and scoffed."YA uveren, chto vy delayete. Vse znayut velikogo Dmitriya Volkov. Strashnyy bratva bratva."I'm sure you do. Everyone knows the great Dimitri Volkov. The fearsome Bratva Butcher.He sneered. His blue eyes flicked to me, his lips curling up in distaste."Ya priznayu, ya udivlen, chto tvoy otets pozvolil tebe zhenit'sya na ital'yanskoy sobake. Kazhetsya, on daleko ot traditsii." I'll admit, I'm surprised your father let you marry the Italian dog. It seems he's strayed far from tradition.

I growled in anger at his words, my fists clenching at my sides. He obviously had no idea I could understand every bloody word he said. Or maybe he did and he just didn't care. Either way, he was really starting to get on my fucking nerves.

Illayana seemed to sense my discomfort and she patted my chest lightly in an offer of support, her gaze never once leaving Dominik's.

"Yesli ya vspominayu dyadyu, ty nikogda ne byl poklonnikom traditsiy."If I recall uncle, you were never a fan of traditions either.

She arched an eyebrow, challenging him to contradict her words.

---