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As he pulls away from the curb, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve simply traded one monster for another.
Chapter Three
Luca
Katya is suspiciously silent as I drive down the city streets toward my apartment. She’s been awfully quiet since I told her that she is mine. I can only imagine the whirlwind of emotions she must be feeling. The little Bratva princess now in the clutches of her father’s enemy.
She knows who I am. It was obvious she recognized me immediately, and her reaction told me she is familiar with my reputation. I’m sure her father and older brothers have had plenty to say about me over the years.
From what I’ve heard, Katya is not directly involved with her family’s business, but it would be impossible for her to be totally ignorant. Katya has a reputation as the perfect, obedient daughter. She must know how dangerous it was for her to cross into Rossi territory. And she still took that risk.
Which makes me wonder how obedient she really is. She has the red hair and gray eyes characteristic of descendants from the Volga region of Russia. There is no mistaking her ancestry. I can’t help but wonder if she has the fiery temperament stereotypical of redheads. My cock pulses in my pants at the thought of this beautiful girl misbehaving.
Fuck! I want her.
I would be smart not to allow myself to fall into temptation with the daughter of a rival family and muck up the watersfurther. This sexy human is forbidden to me, and I would best remember that.
“What did you mean when you said you came to the club seeking help?” I ask if only to fill up the heavy tension in the car.
“I was looking for sanctuary,” she whispers reluctantly. “I had hoped to find acapowho would agree to hide me until my father gave up trying to force me into marrying the Albanian.”
Taking a deep breath, I fight to calm the sudden rage that courses through my veins at the thought of this soft, innocent girl marrying the brutish Anton Berisha. Not even marriage could save his previous wives from his cruelty. How could her family subject her to such a fate? It’s no wonder she came to the club, misguided though she was.
“It wouldn’t have worked,” I tell her, and her gaze darts to my face with a look of surprise. She might be Bratva royalty, but my little princess clearly doesn’t understand how mob politics works. “Offering you sanctuary will cause a gang war. Anton will be insulted and no doubt do whatever it takes to help your father get you back. They will form an alliance over it, and we’ll either be forced to give you back or fight it out in the streets. Either way, it won’t save you from being forced to marry the Albanian the moment your father has you back.”
I glance over at her as I speak and see the color drain for her face. The thought of Katya enduring such a fate sends bile rising up my throat, and I bite back the urge to promise her that she is mine and nothing will happen to her . . . except she’s not.
And when Matteo finds out that I have Katya Ivanov, he’ll be furious. But he did tell me to stop the alliance between the Russians and Albanians. Keeping Katya is the key to do that. I just have to figure out a way to do that without risking an all-out gang war.
“Does that mean you’re going to send me back to my father?” she asks meekly.
I shake my head. “No. I promised to keep you safe. If I give you back to your father and you marry Anton, the Italians won’t stand a chance against the combined forces of the Russians and the Albanians. It’s a lose-lose. If I give you back, there will be war. If I keep you, there will be war. Your father has been trying to find a way to push us out of the city for decades. You’re the key to his success.”
You’re just a pawn in his game, I think, but I don’t say it.
“Maybe when they learn I am missing, they’ll realize they made a mistake, grow worried, and cancel their plans to marry me off.” There’s so much naive hope in her voice, it makes my gut tighten.
“You don’t really believe that, though, do you, princess?” I ask. She doesn’t respond, but her shoulders slump and she slides lower in the seat, turning her head to stare unseeingly out the window.
I know how she feels. She isn’t the first to have been betrayed by her own family. Hell, my own father sold me to Matteo Rossi to pay off his debts when I was only twelve years old. I was meant to be Matteo’s errand boy until I grew old enough to serve as a soldier. But the old man took a liking to me and took me under his wing. He molded me into the man I am today, becoming more of a father to me than the sperm-donor who sold me off ever was.
We’re silent for the rest of the trip, and as I drive into the underground parking lot of my building complex, I refuse to think of how bad of an idea this is.
I should’ve taken her straight to Matteo so he could decide what to do with her, maybe he could ransom her back to her father or Anton, but . . .
Mine!
She is mine!
Whatever happens, I know I won’t be letting her go, even if Matteo tells me to. I’ll figure out some way to keep her and avoid this war. No matter what it takes.
I ignore the voice at the back of my head as I turn to the woman in my passenger’s seat. “I am taking you up to my penthouse until I figure out what to do with you.”
I wonder how long it would take for Anton to lose patience with Viktor Ivanov and walk away from the alliance and marriage. Can I drag out negotiations for her return long enough to wear Anton down? Probably not. Anton and Viktor know that their combined resources make them more powerful than us. But without a marriage, any alliance between them would be weak.
An idea begins to form and I turn to the beautiful girl in my passenger seat as I shift the car into park. “How old are you?”
She seems surprised by my question, but answers quickly. “I’m twenty-one.” She looks younger than that with her pale, blemish-free skin and wide, innocent eyes. Good. She’s old enough to make her own choices.
