Page 82 of Bratva Bride

I turned to see one of Dimitri’s men move into the light and stand right in front of me.

I shrugged and peered over the railing. “I don’t care if she comes back.” But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a crock of shit.

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “Right, of course.”

He went to slink back into the shadows, our conversation seemingly coming to an end, but I couldn’t help ask one question.

“Just out of curiosity, if I was interested in finding out where she was, and I’m not saying I am…but if Iwas…where would she be?”

I kept my gaze forward, refusing to look at the man. But even in my peripheral vision I could see the smirk on his face. I wanted to slap it right off him.

“Where she always goes when someone pisses her off.”

When he didn’t continue, I pinned him with a hard glare and arched an eyebrow. I didn’t care if he was a Bratva man. If he didn’t hurry up and talk, I really would slap it out of him.

“The warehouse.”

ChapterTwenty

Arturo De Luca

I’m not going to do it.

Nope. Nuh-uh. No fucking way.

I’m Arturo Giovanni De Luca and I chase after no woman, not even my wife.

Okay, if that was even remotely true, then why are you halfway to the warehouse right now?

Sometimes, I wish I could bitch slap my own damn brain.

This was unfamiliar territory for me. Usually when I had an argument with a woman, all I’d have to do is click my fingers and they’d come running back.

But not Illayana.

What pissed me off the most was that I kinda liked it. I liked that I couldn’t control her. I liked that I had no clue what she was going to do next. It was…refreshing.

When I walked into the warehouse, the atmosphere was electric. You couldn’t tell that mere hours ago, a devastating event occurred on these grounds.

Excitement buzzed in the air as people crowded around the boxing ring, cheering for more bloodshed. All the people injured during the attack had been moved to another room within the warehouse, freeing up the space that allowed our soldiers to blow off some much needed steam.

Illayana sat between Lorenzo and Luca, legs crossed underneath her and face smiling. I bristled at the closeness of their bodies and glared hard at my men.

Christian and Lukyan were in the ring, trading blows. Nothing too serious, that much I could tell. Just a friendly sparring match.

The crowd went wild, everyone jumping to their feet and clapping hard when Christian struck hard, his fist connecting with Lukyan’s face. His head snapped to the side, blood trailing from his now split lip and down his chin.

Lukyan turned his head back to face Christian and the fucker smiled.

A feminine voice called my name and I turned. Gabriella strode towards me, her eyes red from crying and still wearing her white ball gown from earlier, except now it was covered in dirt and blood. She hugged me tightly, laying her head on my chest as she cried hysterically.

“Oh my god, Arturo. Mum’s still unconscious, she hasn’t woken up yet. I can’t believe this is happening.”

I hugged her back stiffly. “She’ll be alright.”

“But what if she’s not? What if she dies?” she hiccupped, burying her face deeper into my chest.

“She won’t.” I pulled out of her arms and took a step back, putting some distance between us. Her face dropped for a second and then she covered it with a small smile.

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