Page 41 of Owned By the Mafia

I look at my watch and get up. “Sorry, I need to get something quickly.”

Every few hours, I’ve been trying to call Robbie, but there’s been no answer—no texts, no calls, and no emails.

I feel like a shell of a person without him here, and I am worried he’s been punished worse than I pictured. I go up to my room and shut the door. I take out my phone and dial his number. It rings, and I tap my foot, waiting without hope.

So when the call is answered, I stand up quickly. “Robbie?”

“Dina, this needs to stop.” It’s Ronan, and I swallow.

“I just want to know he’s okay,” I say quickly. “That he isn’t dead at the bottom of the Hudson or something.”

“I rule strictly but fairly. Dina. I’m not going to kill my brother because of who he fucks. He is, however, relieved of his position for now. You, on the other hand, are going to get into a lot of trouble if Katya finds out how many times a day you text and call and email my brother.”

I bite my lip. “Please don’t tell her, Ronan.”

“I’m not going to if you stop. You have to stop, Dina. You two are not meant to be together. Some things just happen that way. For the sake of both of you, stay away from him and move on. He needs to do the same.”

The call ends, and I swallow hard. My throat is swollen with emotions and hurts as tears slip down my cheeks. I fall into my bed and sob into my pillow. I’ve never been this emotional about a man before, but fuck, I love him. And it isn’t fair I can’t have him.

Maybe after the event, we can ask the families to release us, and we can build an honest life somewhere in Europe.

There’s a knock at my door, and I hear Katya’s soft voice, “Dinara?”

I wipe my eyes and take a steady breath. “I’ll be down later. I’m not feeling well.”

“Do you need to talk?” she calls softly.

“No,” I call, colder than I usually would. I hear her sigh, and her footsteps recede, and I curl up on my bed, wondering if I will ever see Robbie again or if Ronan is right and I should just move on.

Chapter 23 - Robbie

This is fucking bullshit. I should be at that damn family lunch today. Firstly, I’m a fucking Quinn, and second, and most importantly, Dina is going to be there. I can’t believe I’m being banned from seeing my girlfriend like a teenage boy all over again.

I think back to Friday when I tried to sneak my phone off Ronan to text Dina, and he caught me. He started to smack me on the head in anger, something he hadn’t done in a long time, before he threw me to the ground, finger in my face, and ordered me to my apartment.

That also sucks. I’ve only been allowed to come out cause the men are simmering down, but now I’m confined to my apartment again, spending hours and hours reviewing footage from all over the area near the attacks to track down the Baldocchi’s moves.

Ronan didn’t even see me today. He sent Daniel to tell me that I could pop down to the pub for fish and chips for lunch, but I was to go straight back to my apartment afterwards. I rolled my eyes at him and said, “Yes, Dad.”

Daniel hadn’t taken kindly to that, but he left it there. Since they left, I have been pouring over the footage. I pause the footage and head out, going down to the pub. I sit in the booth, and Molly brings me a plate of fish and chips, the chips soaking in salt and vinegar. I eat my food grumpily, even if it tastes fucking amazing.

Some lads come in to have lunch and sit in a booth behind me. They must notice me because they start talking loudly about more than one way to betray a family, and Callum clearly isn’t the only problem. Molly stops at my table. “Ignore them, love. Ronan won’t have you fighting the men.”

I nod, though the anger in me is building. I get halfway through my food and push it away. “Molly, keep this for me for later. I’ve lost my appetite.”

“I would lose my appetite too after eating Russian pussy,” one of the older men quips at me.

I sigh and walk toward the door when that same man stands up and steps in my way. I recognized him instantly. He is a much older soldier; his son is also in our games.

“Ian, I think it’s best if you step out of my way,” I say, looking straight at him. I won’t let these fuckers think I’m scared.

“Or what?” he says, stepping closer to me.

I grab him by the throat and choke him slightly. “I don’t care what you think of my choice of who I slept with, but I am a Quinn. I have given up my life for this family and saved your asses on more than one occasion. For that, you will give me respect.” I drop him, and he steps aside quickly.

“Sorry, Robbie,” he says. “You’re right.”

I nod and walk out of the pub, not looking back. I don’t have to. The men know where I stand in the grand scheme of things and where they stand in relation to that.

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