War (Bratva and Mafia Chronicles Book 1)

by Melissa Silvey

  I take a step closer, but don’t walk up the stairs.

  “So, you’ve gone and done it, haven’t you Chiara?” he asks.

  I’m not going to act naïve, we’re past that. So I nod. I want to explain myself, and I open my mouth to say something, anything.

  But he speaks, and shocks me. “You’re seeing Dimitri Federov.”

  What am I supposed to say to that? No, sorry, I’m not dating the next leader of the Federov family, but I am dating the Bloody Ivanovich? Instead, I remain silent.

  “Dante saw him leaving your house this morning, the house that I built for you.” I bite my bottom lip. Whatever I say right now would be pointless. My only argument to his statement is no, you’ve got the wrong Russian. “You’ve passed over the future head of the family, for a married man. A married Russian man.”

  I shake my head, and fight back a chuckle. This is so wrong. “I’m not…”

  “We did a little digging, Chiara, and we’ve found out that the future head of the most powerful Bratva in New Jersey has been staying in a hotel here in the city for a week. And you were seen at that very same hotel. Can you explain yourself?”

  While he’s talking to me, and he has me distracted, I don’t see the men moving behind me. And I have no idea they’re there, until I feel a pair of hands grab my forearms, and pull my hands behind my back. I turn, stunned that someone has put their hands on me but almost expecting to see Misha. Instead, I find Dante Moretti, his cruel face in a scowl. He’s not half as attractive as his oldest brother, especially since he always looks angry.

  “Don’t fight me. I’m taking you to Frankie. I pity you when he gets hold of you, bitch. If you thought I was bad, you had no fucking idea.”

  I scoff loudly at that lie. “I don’t think you’re bad, Dante. I know you are.”

  He grins wickedly, and calmly says, “Who do you think I learned it from?” He laughs when he sees the expression on my face. “It wasn’t Matteo. Frankie always liked you, so you never saw what he’s really capable of. But you will, when you see him again.” He laughs, and pulls on my arms to try to get me to move. There are two other men on the lawn, flanking us.

  That’s when I hear a booming voice from the doorway yell out, “Let her go, asshole.” I look up at my dad, to find Misha standing behind him with a gun to his head.

  Dante releases one of my arms, and instead of standing still and waiting for him to pull his gun, I turn quickly and take a swing at him. I’ve only wanted to do that for fifteen years.

  I’m not sure I hurt him, but I stun him, and he releases me. He’s pulling a gun out of the waistband of his pants, and I ball both of my fists together and knock it out of his hands. He reaches down to grab at it, but Misha lets out a loud “Stop!”

  When Dante freezes, I move forward and knee him in his nuts. I’m surprisingly calm when I tell him, “That’s for kissing my sister, asshole.”

  When he falls, I hear two other guns cock around me. That makes me stop suddenly. My eyes move quickly to Misha. He’s saying something to my father. My dad looks around, and yells, “Put your guns down!”

  I pick up the gun that Dante dropped, and train it on the man to my right.

  A black SUV drives up to my parents’ house, and screeches to a halt. “Time to go, Chiara,” Misha screams. I don’t think twice, I run toward the SUV. I climb into the back, and the tires squeal as the car pulls away.

  That’s when I realize it’s just me and the driver. “Where’s Misha?” I demand, loudly. Shit, did I get in the car with one of Frankie’s men without realizing it?

  “I’m taking you to the boss,” the man answers, in heavily accented English. I’ve recently become accustomed to the accent, and it isn’t Italian.

  So… he’s taking me to see Mr. Federov. This isn’t exactly how I thought we’d be meeting up for dinner, but I’m sure it’ll be okay. We’re supposed to meet up with Dimitri, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.

  I look down at the object in my hands, and realize I have a gun. I’ve shot on the range before. My dad thought I should learn how, for my protection. But I can’t believe Dante literally tried to kidnap me, and I actually took his gun and ran toward an SUV to escape. This is insane.

  But I don’t drop the gun. I put it in my bag, and search around for my phone just as it begins to ring. I grab it, and note that the caller ID says Misha. I don’t say hello, I just ask, “Where are you?”

  “Don’t worry, you’re fine. I’ll see you there, Chi,” he replies, but it doesn’t reassure me.

  “You didn’t answer my question. Where are you?” I ask again. “What is happening? Why were you at my house?”

  “I can’t tell you now. I’ll see you soon,” he says, and the call ends.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

  After several minutes of fretting, and wondering, the driver pulls up to a bar which seems to be near Misha’s apartment, with a sign out front that says, The Vodka Room. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to see Dimitri, but I might be wrong.

  I wait several moments before leaving the car, to see if Misha arrives. The driver finally leaves his seat and opens the door, so I hesitantly step out. He leads me into the bar, and I admit I’m surprised by what I find inside.

  There are several men standing around the entrance with guns. I count eight. Four people sit at a table near the bar. Two bottles sit on the table, with four shot glasses. Four sets of bright blue eyes watch as I enter. Three very blonde men, and one striking young dark haired woman sit silently, waiting for me to approach. One of the men is obviously older, the father I assume. The family resemblance is obvious.

  I might be even more nervous now than I was at my parents’ house, because I knew Misha was there with me. My heart is pounding, and my hands are shaking.

  These must be Misha’s siblings, and his father. I thought maybe I would meet them under happier circumstances.

  “Hello, Ms. Rossi. Please sit,” the older man says, and motions toward an empty chair at the table. “Would you like a drink?”

  A day that started out strange, with a visit from Dimitri Federov, then went from bad with my father probably assisting the Morettis in attempting to kidnapping me, to worse with this obviously contentious meeting with the Ivanovich family.

  Where in the hell is Misha?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Misha

  Dimitri expected the Moretti family to make a move on Chiara. I doubted that her father would let it happen, but I met him at her parents’ house anyway. I’m so glad I did.

  I have Nico Rossi’s arm twisted behind his back, and a gun to his head, when I order, “Move, you bastard, now!” He doesn’t even struggle or try to resist. I’ve already patted him down, and taken his gun. Even with a weapon, he’s not really a threat to me.

  When we walk into the Rossi family dining room, I find Dimitri sitting at the head of the table, with four of his men standing around it, guns trained on Rossi’s family. I never realized how bad Chiara’s brother’s health really is. I didn’t expect men to have guns pointed at an eight year old in a wheelchair. Guilia’s reaction alternates between fear of the men pointing guns at her, and looking at Dimitri with lovesick puppy eyes. Chiara’s mother is trying her hardest to calm her son.

  This is not what I thought would happen. This is like a nightmare.

  “Sit,” I instruct Nico, and release his hand. He sits across the long, formal table from Dimitri.

  Dimitri looks stoic, even with the chaotic scene around him. After several moments, he speaks. “I can see why you want your daughters to marry powerful men, Rossi. It appears your genes are not good.” Rossi’s lip curls up in disgust. “Maybe this is God’s way of punishing you for your multitude of sins.”

  “You’re one to talk about sins, Federov. How about adultery? That’s in the top ten,” Rossi spits out.

  Dimitri looks thrown by that statement, until I provide, “They think you’re seeing Chiara, because you were seen leaving her house.”r />
  Dimitri chuckles, and glances at me. “Shall we tell them the truth, Misha?”

  I knew Nico Rossi would eventually find out Chiara and I are together. I even expected it to happen while my gun was aimed at his head. What I didn’t expect was to be holding his entire family hostage as well.

  Since I stand silently, Dimitri turns his attention back to Rossi. “I’ll inform you, then. I’m not sleeping with your daughter. But when you find out who is, you’ll wish it was me.”

  Rossi looks like he doesn’t believe him for a moment. Then, he tears his eyes from Dimitri, and finally notices me. He really stares at me for several moments, until he asks, “Which Ivanovich son are you?”

  “The most dangerous,” Dimitri tells him. “You’ve heard of the Bloody Ivanovich, I assume.” Dimitri’s eyes sparkle as he says it. He’s getting a thrill out of scaring Rossi, while using my reputation to do it.

  Rossi’s eyes go wide as he takes in my appearance. Most men don’t get the chance to look beyond the barrel of my gun. Rossi seems adequately surprised, as he shakes his head.

  “Boo!” Dimitri exclaims with a chuckle.

  I finally get the chance to say everything I’ve wanted to say to Chiara’s dick of a father. The fear in his eyes is obvious. He’s even sweating now. “How could you?” I demand. Rossi sighs, and clears his throat. “How could you threaten Chiara, and manipulate her into marrying someone she doesn’t love? How could you threaten to marry Guilia off to a sick, cruel lunatic like Dante Moretti?”

  Rossi breathes deeply through his nose, and avoids my eyes.

  “I can tell you from experience, Rossi. Arranged marriages do not work,” Dimitri says, with eyes void of emotion.

  “What I decide for my family is none of your business,” Rossi replies, harshly.

  “What you decided for your family, without allowing your adult daughter to make her own decisions, is what brought us all here.” Dimitri glances over at me again. “With the Bloody Ivanovich standing in your dining room, ready to put a bullet between your eyes.” I roll my eyes, because he’s being way too over dramatic. “He could obliterate your entire family without blinking an eye.”

  “We’re taking your daughters, Chiara and Guilia. When you decide to give Chiara her freedom, and Dante Moretti finds a suitable wife, we’ll return Guilia. They will be treated well, I will personally guarantee that. If you come after them…” I rack the slide and take the safety off the pistol. “My advice is this. Don’t come after them.”

  Finally I look at Chiara’s mother. She’s still a beautiful woman. I see where Guilia gets her looks. She’s comforting Guilia, whispering in her ear. “Be a good girl for me, okay? These men won’t hurt you, Chiara will make sure of it.” Then she glares at me. The fire in her eyes makes me think of Chiara. Hesitantly, she nods at me. I assume that Chi has talked to her mother about me. “Take care of them,” she orders, as she glares at me.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I reply.

  Dimitri holds his hand out to Guilia, and her face lights up. She smiles, and blushes, and reaches out to take it. “I’m Dimitri, Guilia. We’re going to become good friends.”

  I can see why Dante, or any other heterosexual man, could fall for Guilia. She’s gorgeous, and seems very sweet. But when she looks right at Dimitri, a man who threatened her family, and says, “You’re cute!” it’s obvious that she’s not quite right. She takes his hand, and looks at me. “You’re Chi’s boyfriend?”

  I walk beside her, but I glance over my shoulder to make sure Nico doesn’t move. “Yes, Guilia, I’m in love with your sister.”

  “She’s lucky. You’re cute,” she tells me, as she moves closer to Dimitri. I hope to God that he can resist her. I’d hate to have to kill him.

  *****

  I pull up to The Vodka Room, and quickly climb off the bike. I have no idea how long she’s been in there with them, but I know it’s been too long. I slam the door open with both hands, and look around. Chiara is standing near the table, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. My father is sipping vodka, and chatting with Natalya, while Anatoli and Ivan are trying their hardest not to get caught staring at Chi.

  “What’s going on here?” I demand, as I make my way to my woman.

  “We’re getting to know your new friend,” Anatoli says, with a glare at me.

  I wrap my arms around her shoulders, and bring her into my body. “Are you okay?” She looks up at me with stormy blue eyes, and nods slightly.

  “Your girlfriend is fine. We weren’t harsh with her,” my father says, with a gruff voice and angry accent. “If your Italian girlfriend can’t handle a few questions, she won’t fit in with a Russian family.”

  “Stop right there,” I growl, as I stare my father down with all the emotions I’m feeling. I’m met with his empty eyes. At that point I realize that maybe I don’t fit in with a Russian family, either. I don’t want my eyes to be empty like my father’s anymore. I want something different, something better. I want love, and life, and hope. I want Chi.

  “She was good enough when you wanted me to follow her and fall in love with her,” I remind him.

  “That was when I needed something from her. I don’t need her anymore,” Ivan says and looks away, as if she means nothing.

  “That’s all that’s important to you, isn’t it Papa? What you can get from someone. You needed a loyal assassin, and you had a spare son, so you made me a killer knowing that you could throw me away if I got in trouble.”

  “Misha,” Natalya starts, but I give her a look that stops her.

  “Don’t act like you care about me. I know you don’t,” I exclaim. “Like Papa, none of you really cared about anything except the family business. Ivan, you married a woman you didn’t love because Papa told you to.” Ivan glances at Chi, then turns away. “And Natalya, you decided not to go to college to work for the family.”

  “I chose to work for the family,” she replies, but she avoids my eyes as well.

  “We just want to live. We just want to be together, and try to make it work.” I rub my hand down Chi’s back, and she places her hand on my side. “I don’t want you to be an enemy, Papa. And you definitely don’t want me to be your enemy.”

  My father looks me over, staring at the place where Chi’s hand is touching me. “You’re right, Misha. I don’t want you to be an enemy. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and the family. I will protect you, and I expect you to continue to protect the family also.” He nods, and holds his glass of vodka up to me. “Have your Italian girlfriend. It changes nothing. You are still an Ivanovich. We will always be here for you.”

  I’m not sure if I believe him or not. But I don’t want to start a fight here and now, with a crew of eight guards watching over my father and siblings.

  “Thank you, Papa,” I reply, and kiss the top of Chi’s head. “Come on, Chi,” I whisper in her ear, then take her hand to lead her out of the bar.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chiara

  It feels strange, riding on the back of Misha’s motorcycle toward my house. But instead of driving to the front of my house, we drive to the alley in the back. I guess he’s not as confident about our plan as he wants me to believe he is.

  “Grab what you can carry,” he urges, after I remove my helmet. I gaze at my house, and wonder what in the hell I’m going to take. How can a person gather just what they can carry from a lifetime of possessions? I’m still staring, I guess, as Misha climbs off the bike and takes my hand. “Come on, babe. We don’t have long.”

  I turn to the hot, tall Russian, and all I can think is: I don’t want to go.

  I don’t want to pack a bag and leave everything else. I don’t want to leave my grandparents, my parents, and my siblings.

  “We need to go, Chi. We can’t stay here.” He’s calm as he says it, but I hear the edge in his voice. I turn my attention to him, and see the most beautiful, sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life. He makes my knees weak just gazing at him. I want h
im, but I can’t leave my home.

  “No. I’m not leaving.” I shake my head, and begin to climb off the bike.

  “Stay on the bike. If you won’t pack, we’ll leave without your things.” I quickly slither off the bike, and stand to face him.

  I’m about a foot shorter, but that doesn’t stop me from staring him down. “I’m not running away. I’m not leaving my house. I’m staying.”

  “You’re insane! Get back on the damn bike!” His blue eyes are hard as ice. His voice is barely contained anger. And his back is as straight and rigid as an iron rod.

  I’m still not getting on the bike. I’m not afraid of him. I know he won’t hurt me. “No,” I reply curtly as I move toward my back door.

  He grabs my shoulders, and tries to pull me backward, but I duck and evade him somehow, and run toward my house as if it will protect me and keep me safe.

  I still refuse to look at him. I’m finally at my door, and as I try to unlock it, he grabs my hand and turns me to face him. “Stop Chiara. Frankie Moretti will find you, and he will hurt you. He showed you one side of him, the side he wanted you to see. But he’s a mobster, Chiara. Make no mistake. He’s not a nice guy.”

  I already know all of this. It’s the reason I couldn’t allow myself to fall for Frankie. But I don’t miss the irony, with the lecture coming from Misha.

  “Not like you, huh? I’m sure the sweet, innocent Bloody Ivanovich is just a little misunderstood, am I right?” I pull my wrist out of his hand, and continue to unlock the door. When it’s open, I don’t hear the beeps of the alarm system. Did I forget to set it when I left earlier?

  “We can argue about this when you’re safe, when we’re both safe.” He stops me at the door, and pulls a gun out of the waistband of black pants.

  “I…” I begin, but he stops me.

  He quickly covers my mouth with his hand. Then, he brings one finger to cover his lips, to shush me, before he puts up his hand as if to tell me to stay here. He puts the gun up, takes one big step to the side, and stares into my dining room. Then he stands as still as a statue, as if listening intently.