Page 47 of The Mobster's Forced Marriage

“Oh, I believe he does.” Yuriy glances at me with a smirk, and it feels like a cold hand grips my heart.

“What do you mean?” I tug at my hands, trying to get closer to Yuriy, but Ivan and Boris hold me tightly so I can only stretch myself toward him. “What do you want to do with him?”

“Nothing scary, don’t worry. You only have to wait.”

That doesn’t calm my anxiety at all, but I feel like it’s pointless to keep asking questions. I only keep my gaze on Sergei and Misha a dozen feet in front of us and walk forward. Thankfully, it looks like they’re taking us to the same place, and it’s not a basement or a torture room. In fact, we end up in Yuriy’s office, a big and spacious room with solid oak furniture and dark green walls.

When we enter, Olga is already there, leaning over the desk and typing something on a laptop. She looks at us for a moment and, without batting an eye, straightens up and turns to Yuriy.

“Is everything ready?” He walks to her, focused more on the laptop, and Olga nods.

“Riccardo will call you any minute now.”

I blink and open my mouth around a silent question. What? Riccardo?

But before I can say anything, Yuriy’s phone rings with Tchaikovsky’s symphony, and he grins widely and answers the call. “Hello?”

The room is silent and his speakers are loud, so it doesn’t take a lot of effort to hear the response, and my heart drops when I realize that it is, indeed, Riccardo’s voice. I may not be so familiar with him, but I have a good memory, and the few times I’ve heard him speak were enough to memorize it. Now, I can easily hear that Riccardo is tense and furious.

“I’ve just received a call from Louis and our border patrols. What the hell is going on, Yuriy?”

Louis? Oh, that means he’s alive! I quietly breathe out in relief while Yuriy openly chuckles and shakes his head, turning to the window. “I’d like to ask the same. Why was your man rummaging around our streets at night, killing my men and disturbing our peace? It was not a part of the deal, Riccardo.”

“What?”

“The truce is over now—so of course, I took what belongs to our family back.” He glances at us, and I narrow my eyes, burning with anger from within. “I am not going to touch Elena for now, but I'm counting on you to bring her back when I demand it."

Riccardo pauses for a moment, and I can imagine him exchanging a glance with Elena before he grits out, “You can’t be serious. It doesn’t work like that.”

“If I say it does, it does,” Yuriy says with an arrogant smile, and god, how much I’d give to punch him in the face before shooting his head.

“That’s bullshit!”

“Eloquent.” Yuriy chuckles and takes a seat in his armchair behind the desk. “Well, if you’d like to discuss it like adults, you are always welcome in my house.”

Oh, come on, that’s such a cheap trick. Riccardo isn’t so stupid to come to his enemy’s house, is he?

“You don’t expect me to trust you, do you?” Riccardo says after a second, and I’m glad to hear mocking notes in his voice. Maybe someone will finally put this asshole in his place.

“Why not?” Yuriy plays innocent, even though it’s an obvious lie for everyone in the room, even Misha. “I don’t want to start the war all over again, and I’m sure you don’t want it either. But under current circumstances, we have to take another look at the deal between our families.”

Riccardo holds a pause, and I can’t believe he’s even thinking about it. What the hell!

“Besides,” Yuriy adds in the meantime and glances at me. “If your cousin wants to see his wife again, you have to hurry up. I am not going to keep them here forever.”

“How can I be sure your people aren’t gonna kill me as soon as I step foot in your territory?” Riccardo asks finally, and I can hear just how grim his voice is now. I’m not sure what Yuriy is talking about either, but I don’t like it.

“Oh, that’s simple!” Yuriy even laughs a little, slowly turning around in his chair. “Bring Elena with you. She’ll be your lucky charm.”

“I’ll bring my men with me.”

“Sure.” Yuriy grins. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

Riccardo doesn’t say anything for a moment, clearly mulling it over, but in the end, he breathes out. “Alright, then. I’ll be there soon.”

“Great! It’s a pleasure to have—”

But Riccardo hangs up before Yuriy finishes the sentence, and I see his smile growing wider. He looks at Olga, leans on the desk with his elbows, and drums his fingers, looking like a child waiting to open Christmas presents.

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