Page 38 of Cruel Bratva King
“Wait till you hear it.”
A voice in my head screamed for me to ignore her bullshit and ask her to leave, but I didn’t. My curiosity got the better of me. “I’m listening. Make it worth it.”
“I’m sure he told you a bunch of bullshit like he loves you, and that was why he wanted to marry you?”
“Are you trying to get words out of me?”
She giggled, and it was the most unnerving thing I’d ever heard. “Say what you want to say or leave this instant.”
“Fine. Sergey is not who you think he is. Everything he did was one purpose. He approached you for a reason and will dump you the minute he’s done using you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Ask him yourself. You aren’t his first victim, and you won’t be the last. Why do you think he invited us to dinner when you were there?” She paused to allow me to think, but it was hard to when my thoughts wouldn’t align.
“There’s about to be a war between the Italians and Russians. He could avoid the war, but he chose bloodshed instead, and you, my darling, are his human shield. His plan was to direct the attention to you. Rather than seek him out, his enemies will want to hurt the one thing he cherishes the most.”
I drew a sharp breath. “And I’m that one thing?”
“To his enemies, yes.” She got to her feet and walked to me. She bent over and gripped both arms of my chair. “You’re nothing special, Lilianna, not to Sergey, at least. You’re nothing but aputtanahe plans to fuck dirty and use for his own protection.”
She pouted to mock me further. “Did you think he cared and you’ll be a happy couple after all of this? He’ll kill you when he no longer needs you, and if you’re lucky, he might fuck your dead body once more before he tosses you into the ocean to become food for the fishes,” she snarled horribly. “Enjoy your marriage while it lasts.”
Giulia grabbed her bag and went away.
The moment she left, her words played on a loop in my head. Tears clouded my vision as pain slithered my chest as if I was being stabbed with a barbed wire. I didn’t know what I expected from a man like Sergey, but this, this was too much.
I clutched my chest, willing the ache to stop, but it didn’t. With each second, the pain only increased. Even a stab to the heart wouldn’t hurt as much as this. I slid down from the chair and crumbled to the floor, drawing my knees to my chest and shivering.
“You’re nothing but a puttana he plans to fuck dirty and use for his own protection.”
Chapter 17 - Sergey
I snapped awake, and my first instinct was to grab my .45 caliber pistol from where it was buried under my pillow, cock it, and sprint up from my bed. I tiptoed to my door, opened it gently, and marched out of the room quietly and at full alert.
I’d woken up to the sound of someone whimpering, and it sounded like it came from Lilianna’s room, three rooms down the hall. She could’ve been having a nightmare, but it didn’t hurt to be extra careful.
Being a part of the mafia had taught me that anything could happen at any time, and I always had to be prepared for the worst case scenarios. I made my way to her door as discretely as possible, pushed it open, and peeked inside.
Her lights were turned off, and it was hard to see anything through the small reflection of light pouring into the room from the glass wall. She whimpered again, more loudly and painfully this time.
I instantly threw caution out of the window, stormed inside the room, and turned the lights on. All my twenty years of being the head of the bratva, I never thought there’d be a day when I’d be horrified at the sight of blood.
But I was.
Lilianna tossed left and right on her bed, clutching her stomach and bleeding. I quickly put my gun away in my pocket and scurried to her. I raised her upper body from the bed. She was pale and drenched in sweat, her eyes shut.
I tapped her cheeks. “Lilianna, can you hear me?”
She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t.
Shit. Fear clogged my throat, and I was drawn back to the night my parents died.
Lifeless eyes staring back at me, disfigured limbs. The smell of petrol mixed with the stench of fresh blood. The sound of screeching tires and cracking glasses.
That was the night I made a promise to myself to keep the people I cared about safe. I scooped Lilianna up from the bed, and ran to the garage downstairs with her in my arms. I laid her gently in the car and drove off to the hospital.
I’d never been to a hospital since the night my parents died. I avoided it because of the memories that came with it, but I didn’t care now. My only concern was Lilianna. I never panicked, not even when I was on the brink of death years ago, but I was now.