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His strong fingers wrap around my forearm, and I don’t resist as he pulls me purposefully back toward his car.
25
PYOTR
Sighing heavily, I stare down at my mother’s image as it flashes across the screen of my phone. Pushing back my growing resentment, I swipe to answer her call. Then I let my head drop back against the headrest of my car as I press the phone to my ear.
“Hello, Mother,” I state flatly.
“Lorenzo still hasn’t demanded we push the wedding date forward,” she states sharply, cutting right to the chase.
“So?”
It’s been over a month since our trip to New York, and things have only deteriorated between Silvia and me since then–largely in part because I can’t seem to live with the intense guilt that gnaws at my stomach every time I look at her. So why I should be concerned with forcing my betrothed into lifelong damnation sooner is beyond me.
“That means you haven’t done your job,” my mother snaps. “I thought I made it clear that you need to take Silvia’s virginity.”
“I did,” I growl, my temper getting the better of me.It took everything I had to sink so low, and now my mother wants to accuse me of not fucking Silvia properly?
“Yeah, well, Lorenzo doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. You need to make it obvious to him. I want him to demand a wedding date before the end of the year,” my mother states authoritatively.
“Are you fucking kidding me? It’s October.” No wedding could get put together that fast.Not to mention, what fucking venue might have availability?It reeks of desperation that I doubt even Don Lorenzo would feel if he found out I fucked his daughter.
“And?” she presses. “If he knows she’s not a virgin anymore, Lorenzo won’t be able to offer her as a bride to someone else. He’ll need to marry her quickly to ensure he can get some benefit out of having a daughter. And the sooner we lock down the alliance, the sooner we can have access to his weapons.”
“So, what? You want me to just go tell Don Lorenzo that I fucked his daughter?” The question drips sarcasm because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Even if he did believe me, it would be stupid to tell him now.
“Of course not,” she snaps. “He needs toknowit’s true. So make it obvious. Fuck his daughter in his house and let him walk in on you for all I care. But get it done.”
My stomach turns at the thought of subjecting Silvia to something so humiliating. “No. You know what? Fuck that. I’m tired of doing the dirty work. Things are bad enough between Silvia and me as it is. I don’t intend to completely obliterate any scrap of potential our relationship still has by screwing her in front of her father. You’re demented.”
“Oh, grow up, Pyotr. This isn’t about something as petty and inconsequential as the buddingromanceyou were hoping to have with your future wife. This is about the survival of our Bratva and our family. You need to start acting like the man your father would expect you to be.”
I snarl, damn surethisisn’t the man my father envisioned I would become.
My mother sighs, the sound crackling across the line, and when she speaks again, her tone is more measured, reasoning. “Look, we need to lock in an alliance with the Marchettis. Now. Things are getting worse with the Zhivoder, especially after you shot those three men. Mikhail’s up in arms, accusing us of killing unarmed men he sent in good faith to make peace. We need all the support we can get from another strong family. And the Marchettis are it.”
Rebellion wars with my guilt as I realize my hasty reaction to Silvia’s predicament has put my family in jeopardy. But I wasn’t the one who started this conflict in the first place.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten off more than you could chew,” I hint, reminding her that the conflict we’re facing is because she encroached on another Bratva’s territory–just like we did Ilya Popov’s.
It might have been my cousins’ idea to come out to Chicago and expand, but it was my mother who decided to engage with the Zhivoder clan. And that’s definitely coming back to bite us now.
And between the two wars we’ve fended off on multiple fronts for years, we’ve slowly bled ourselves dry. So her last ditch effort to bring the Marchettis into the fold isn’t because of one rash action I took to save Silvia from being raped.
“Excuse me?” she demands, her tone rising an octave on the last syllable.
I glare through the windshield, my jaw working hard as I grind my teeth. But I won’t repeat what I said.
“You are such an ungrateful child. Everything I’ve ever done for this family, I’ve done to make it strong, to manage the business as your father did,” she hisses across the line, her fury apparent in the breathiness of her tone. “I’ve given upeverythingfor you, to ensure you have a legacy at your fingertip when you come of age.”
She’s laying it on thick, guilt-tripping me to prove just how much I owe her. “I’ve spent my life doing my best to raise you and your sister all on my own. And at the same time, I’ve kept your father’s empire afloat. You think that was easy for me?”
“No,” I growl. I know it wasn’t. I know how much she’s done for our family and me. But that doesn’t make her right.
“I’m tired, Pyotr. I have fought more battles since your father died than you can possibly imagine. Now it’s your turn to do your part. So don’t come crying to me because you finally have to get your hands dirty. You need to do this to protect your family. So who gives a fuck if it brings the Marchetti girl a little discomfort? She’s led a blessed life, surrounded by wealth and luxury. How bad can it possibly be to get put on her back every once in a while? I expect to get a call from Don Lorenzo within the week.”
Then the line goes dead.
