Arranged Bratva Virgin (Dubrov Bratva #5)

Chapter 1 - Stefano

“I am nothing like my stepfather. He paid for his own sins when I killed him,” I yell into the phone, pacing up and down my living room in a rage. My skin is hot, and my muscles are taunted with aggression. I want to climb through the phone and rip whoever this is to shreds.

Another fucking phone call. Another fucking morning of having to deal with anonymous threats. I am so sick of this.

The anonymous caller grunts and laughs darkly. “I don’t give a fuck. You should have died along with him. We don’t want you in our city, and we are going to make sure you disappear one way or another. We are going to burn your companies to the ground the same way your father burned everyone else’s.”

“He acted on his own, I had nothing to do with that. The evidence proves—”

“Liar. You and that little bitch sister of yours are going to pay for what he did.” He cuts me off, not even willing to try and understand the truth despite the massive amount of evidence that is available for anyone who wants to know.

My fury increases tenfold. The frustration of not being able to reach out and just fucking punch this asshole in the face is very real right now.

I’ve reached my limit with this fucker.

“Listen to me carefully, you waste of oxygen. Come and say this to my face, like a real fucking man, if you have a problem with me or my sister. Come and stand in front of me and say it to my face. Or stay a coward, anonymous on the other end of a phone call—do whatever the fuck you want actually, I don’t care— but, if you ever threaten my sister again I will find out who you are and I will tear each of your limbs from your body, one by one, in slow motion, and listen to you scream while you bleed to death on a concrete floor in some underground abandoned building where no one will ever find your body.”

The line goes dead.

Whoever it was has hung up. Obviously, they weren’t too keen on being torn apart.

I am still pacing. My heart is hammering wildly in my chest, my face is hot, and my jaw is so tightly clenched that my neck muscles are starting to pull and it's giving me a headache. This is not how I wanted to start my morning. Thank goodness I have a meeting set up with the Dubrovs already. I need to sort this shit out once and for all.

These ridiculous phone calls have been coming in less frequently over the past few months. It has gone from two or three a day to maybe four a week. But they still grate on me so badly.

My nerves become edged with acid and my mood turns foul instantly.

It really fucks up my day.

And to make matters worse, this has made me late for my meeting with the Dubrov brothers. I hate being late. Especially when meeting with them. They are, even if I am reluctant to admit it, the only reason I still have a business to run, and the only reason someone hasn’t actually killed me yet.

I have a very powerful business and a huge bankroll, but it's nothing compared to that family. They are elite. And I want that same power beneath me so that I can have the same respect they do.

It’s been almost six months since I killed my stepfather.

That asshole deserved what he got, and I know if I hadn’t shot him, he would have killed Chiara, my stepsister. I don’t have any guilt over the incident. The opposite, actually. I am happy I did it.

What I do have is absolute chaos to sort through from what he left behind.

After his murder spree and all of those bombs he set off everywhere, people are obviously not happy—and they are out for revenge against the Napoli family. They need someone to blame, and the only person available, apparently, is me.

Because I am the only one who still holds the Napoli name.

Chiara married into the Dubrovs, a family much stronger than the Napolis. And, thankfully, one I am in an alliance with.

However, after this morning’s threatening phone call, I think it is safe to say that people are still not taking our alliance seriously enough. They wouldn’t dare call up a Dubrov and threaten them, but they are brave enough to threaten me.

I am going to have to push the Dubrovs. I want a more secure alliance, so that these random anonymous people know better than to risk messing with me.

And I know exactly how I want to go about achieving that.

I grin and shake my head. The Dubrov brothers might kill me just for suggesting it, but it’s been on my mind for months. Since the first time I saw her, actually.

Darya Dubrov.

The most beautiful girl I have ever met.

The first time I set my eyes on her it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach and knocked the air out of my lungs. I felt shocked, frozen, and was instantly obsessed.

I pick up my jacket from the back of the chair I slung it over earlier and slip my arms into the custom fit. It looks good.

I run my hands through my dark blonde hair and over my stubbled jaw.

Looking in the hallway mirror, I notice that my amber eyes look almost yellow today. It must be the nervous excitement of what I am about to suggest to the Dubrov brothers.

I chuckle, pick up my car keys and head for the door.

You are asking for trouble, Stefano.

But you never get what you don’t ask for, so it’s worth the risk.

***

Arriving at Paval Dubrov’s mansion, I park in front of the house, next to the other cars that are already there. Climbing out of my Mercedes, I straighten my jacket and walk boldly towards the front door. There is a mix of emotions simmering just beneath the surface of my skin. Agitation over this morning’s phone call seems to be the most prominent, or perhaps it is nerves about what I'm about to propose.

Either way, I feel on edge.

I bite down and feel my jaw flex.

As I walk into the house, I pull off my sunglasses and look around.

“They are outside on the patio, sir.” The doorman nods a greeting and gestures for me to make my way out to the pool area.

Kiril greets me first, standing near the door holding a glass filled with ice and clear liquid.

“Stefano, good morning.”

“Morning,” I grumble. Kiril looks relaxed, as though he doesn’t have a problem in the world. All of the brothers do, actually. The power imbalance between us is so apparent. They have it all. And I want it.

Paval, Ivan and Maxim stand up to shake my hand, slap me on the shoulder and greet me with warm, welcoming smiles.

“Stefano, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright, I guess, but we do have some things that we need to talk about.”

“I assumed so, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked for this meeting.” Paval smiles. “Take a seat, let’s get started. Kiril, come sit, we’re ready to start.”

The brothers each take a seat at the table, and I pull my chair out to join them. As I sit down, Darya walks out carrying an iced tea. My skin instantly tingles as the air becomes charged.

“Good morning, Stefano,” she says, her sweet voice causing my heart to stampede against my ribcage. She walks over to the table and places her drink down at the seat opposite mine. She sits, smiles at me, and tucks a strand of her long caramel hair behind her ear. Her bright blue eyes are locked onto me, pulling me towards her as though enticing me into a dream.

“Good morning, Darya,” I say, struggling to pull my eyes away from her gaze.

Paval glances over to her. “Darya, you don’t have to join us if you don’t feel like it—"

“I’m perfectly fine where I am, thanks,” she says bluntly, with a slight tilt at the corner of her mouth. I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much. She hardly speaks to me, and always looks a little sour when I try to interact with her. She manages to maintain a polite distance between us whenever I attend family dinners or events with her brothers.

I am dying to know more about her. I am dying to get close to her.

Actually, I am surprised to see her here. I wasn’t expecting this. It throws my plan off a bit. Because how can I demand what I want to with her sitting right there, looking at me?

I clear my throat. “Thanks for seeing me today. Business is good, but I am still struggling with constant threats, and despite our alliance and agreement, my name is not holding as much weight as I would need it to in order to grow the business the way we planned. There is a lot of room for improvement if my name were to hold more status.”

Kiril spins his drink in his hand. He eyes me closely. “We have given you our full public support, Stefano, letting our own allies know that you are basically one of us. I am not sure what more we can do for you. What did you have in mind? Something specific?”

“You say you have let them know that I am basically one of you, but we all know that I am not. I would like to become part of the family in a more official capacity.”

Paval leans forward with his arms resting on the table. “I am not sure I understand.”

“When my family made the original alliance with your family, one of your brothers married my sister.” I glance around, pausing for a moment to read their faces. No one has moved much, but there are some confused expressions. “I would like to make the same deal with your family. Marriage. It is the most secure and unarguably the most public way to announce an alliance.”

For a second, they do not register what I am saying, then all three brothers glance at Darya in absolute shock.

“You want to marry our sister?” Maxim snaps, horrified.

“Out of the question. That is not happening,” Paval says bluntly.

“No. We will help in whatever way we can with business, but we aren’t agreeing to that,” Ivan says with a tight-mouthed, tense expression and his fist clenched.

“Gentlemen, you can’t be so dismissive of this idea. My sister is married to Maxim—our bloodlines are already intertwined. What would be so distasteful about me marrying your sister?” I speak with my eyes locked on Darya; she has remained completely silent. I am surprised she hasn’t thrown her iced tea at me or something. She is just sitting there staring down at the table, but her eyes are sharp, and she is definitely listening.

Paval shakes his head. “Stefano, Darya doesn’t deserve to be tossed into this deal like some kind of—"

“She isn’t doing it,” Kiril snaps angrily.

“Why not? My sister was not given the choice. Ultimately, you two are very happy, Maxim. This kind of business deal is very common in our world.”

“Yes, it is, but our sister—"

“Is it that you have a problem with me specifically? Or my business? What is it that makes you so reluctant to agree to this?” I can feel myself getting heated. I knew they wouldn’t agree to it, so I don’t know why I am getting so angry. But I guess I just had that slight delusion of hope.

She is so fucking gorgeous, just sitting there, listening to this all going down.

I feel embarrassed, though, at the outright rejection of my request.

My shoulders are tighter than before, and the headache that started this morning is threatening to evolve into a migraine. I stand up a bit too abruptly and roll my shoulders.

“Thank you for your time,” I say, unable to hide the sarcasm in my tone.

I pick up my phone where I had left it on the table and slip it into my pocket, turning towards the door.

“Stefano, there has to be some other way to secure our alliance,” Paval says, standing as well.

“A more secure way to tell everyone that the alliance is genuine? I don’t think there is. Clearly, what has been done up to this point is not working as well as it should, but I guess it is what it is.”

Maxim stands up, too, and starts pacing up and down while Ivan drums his fingers on the tabletop.

“I think I need something stronger than this,” Kiril complains, pushing his drink away. “This is not the meeting I expected to be having this morning.”

I glance over at Darya, who is not looking straight at me. Her eyes are narrowed, and her lips are pursed as though she is lost in serious thought. She bites her bottom lip, slowly, and it nearly sends me over the edge with desire. I fucking want her.