Page 93 of Bratva Bride

“Get off me, you asshole!” Christian grunted, trying to punch Luca in the ribs.

“Guyssssssss,” I ground out, my temper spiking.

Their bodies twisted and turned, ramming into my father’s thousand-dollar mahogany coffee table, knocking glass figurines to the ground. They smashed into the wall next, grunting and snarling at each other.

Christian bit Luca’s arm. Luca pulled Christian’s hair. They were like a bunch of teenage girls, fighting dirty, biting and scratching one another.

I had enough.

I got to my feet, grabbed a gun, pointed it up at the ceiling and fired twice. “Enough!” I bellowed.

They both froze in shock, Christian with his teeth latched onto Luca’s arm like a dog and Luca with a hand gripped in Christian’s hair.

I pointed at Luca. “You, over there,” I snapped, pointing to one side of the room. “And you, over there,” I growled at Christian, pointing to the other side of the room so that they were far away from each other.

I channelled my mother, her demeanour, the voice she used when she had to break up fights between my brothers and I, fights exactly like this. “Now,” I whispered menacingly.

They separated instantly, scurrying to opposite ends of the room.

Seconds later, men burst into the lounge room from all directions, guns drawn and ready for action, including my two other bodyguards, Lorenzo and Adrian.

I waved them away. “Everything’s fine. It was just me.”

Adrian assessed me, his eyes drifting up to the bullet holes in the roof and back down to me. He lowered his weapon. “Again, Illayana? You keep going like this and there won’t be anything of this house left.”

I scoffed and pointed to the front section of the house, the part that was burnt to a crisp thanks to those fuckers who bombed my wedding. “Really? Like there’s shit all left of it, anyway.”

If my mother was still alive, she’d be heartbroken right now. This house was like her fifth child. She loved it. Seeing it so broken, so destroyed, would have killed her.

Adrian shook his head and signalled for the men to return to their posts. “What happened?” he asked, studying the twins at opposite ends of the room, glaring at each other.

“You wanna know what happened?” I asked, my pent-up frustration reaching its limit. “Arturo left me with two overgrown toddlers who fight like little bitches.”

Christian gasped, his hand flying to his chest. “How dare you.”

Luca winced. “We’re sorry, Illayana. Sometimes we can get a bit out of control.”

A deep, throaty laugh echoed in the room, and I narrowed my eyes at the culprit. “What the fuck is so funny, Adrian?”

His shoulders shook from laughter, pure amusement flashing on his face. “You have no idea how much you look like your father right now. He had the exact same look on his face whenever you and your brothers used to fight.”

“We were nowhere near as bad as them,” I scowled, pointing at the twins.

“No, you were probably worse,” he chuckled, walking out of the room.

That dick.

If anyone would know, it would be him. He’s been in my life for as long as I can remember, always at my father’s side protecting him. He was like an honorary uncle.

Annoyed, I turned off the TV. The vibe was ruined. I was no longer in the mood to pant over the gloriousness that was Henry Cavill.

“Come on, we’re going out,” I said, tucking my gun back into my holster and heading for the front door. When Christian and Luca didn’t move I turned around, frowning at them. “Uh, hello?” I sang, snapping my fingers. “Earth to the twinsies.”

They exchanged a look with one another and awkwardly glanced my way.

I sighed. “What is it?”

“Arturo…he, uh-”

---