Chapter 23 - Stefano
I am furious. I stand in my warehouse looking over the damaged shipment. I can’t believe this happened again.
Lucky for us, this time they got stopped half way through and we managed to save most of it, but I am just so fucking sick of this. Who the hell does this asshole think he is? This fucking idiot thinks he can keep coming at me like this and I won’t retaliate?
I have been paying my father’s debt in the agreed installments. Even though it still pisses me the hell off that I have to do it, I am doing it, because I am a man of my word, so he has no right to be messing with my business like this.
“Hey, have you guys got this covered? I need to go see someone.” I lift my chin towards one of my floor managers.
“Yes, sir. We can handle this.” He nods tightly.
“I want to put an end to this once and for all,” I say, gesturing over the chaos. Then with one more glance around and a tightly clamped jaw, I storm towards my car. It’s time I went to see Marco Colombo face to face so that we can sort this out once and for all, and he can learn that I am not someone he should be messing with.
I slam the car door closed and rev the engine a little too much before I wheelspin away from the parking lot.
I am hyper-focused on what I want to get done now.
I am so fucking sick of people thinking that they can mess with me.
I know that if Marco knew I was married to a Dubrov, he would never have even tried this, but I don’t want to put Darya’s name out there like that. The thought of using her as some kind of status shield makes me feel gross. She is too special. It’s never been my intention with her.
Marco should have enough respect for me just as myself to not think this is ok. The Napoli name is not worth anything.
I guess he just needs to learn his lesson the hard way.
My tires screech against the road as I take the corners too fast. I can’t even think straight, I am so hell-bent on getting my message across to him loud and clear.
When I arrive at Marco’s office, I park close to the entrance, pull the Glock from the console and tuck it at the back of my belt beneath my jacket.
I shove the door of his office building open and march right inside.
The security guard tries to stop me, and I am in such a foul mood that I just turn to him and punch him in the face. I hear his nose pop as it breaks. He collapses to the floor in pain, clutching his hand over his face and I walk away.
I push Marco’s private office door open as his receptionist ducks behind her desk with eyes that look like they are about to pop right out of her skull, she is so scared.
“Marco. I think it’s about time you and I had a little heart-to-heart,” I snarl, leaning over his desk.
He stares up at me with wide eyes, filled with shock.
“What the fuck are you doing here, and why the fuck didn’t you knock or something?”
“Stop fucking playing games with me, asshole. I've had enough of you and your arrogant bullshit.”
“What are you talking about?” Marco pushes the chair back from his desk so that he can stand up, but I move quickly around the desk and shove him back into it, my hand gripping the collar of his shirt. I am much bigger than he is, and he doesn’t stand a chance against me. My eyes are wild with anger, and he can see straight away when he looks into them that I mean business.
“Fucking asshole, let me go.” He squirms.
“Why the hell are you still fucking with my business when I am making the damned payments?”
“I’m not doing anything to your business.” His voice is tight and strained.
“Fuck you, stop lying to me. I just came from my warehouse.”
“Stefano, back the fuck off. I didn’t do anything to your warehouse.”
The more he denies it, the angrier I get.
I reach behind me and wrap my fingers around my Glock, pulling it out of my belt and pressing the barrel into his forehead.
Three of his security guys run in at the same time.
“Oh fuck,” one of them stammers.
“Back off. Back off,” Marco says quickly, waving his arm at his men.
“Stefano, think straight, you idiot. If I want to get paid, I need you to be making money. Why would I mess with that—"
“What is going on here?”
I turn towards Maxim’s voice and my heart sinks. Darya rushes in behind him.
What the fuck are they doing here?
“Stefano, what’s going on?” Maxim asks again.
“This asshole is fucking with my business,” I growl, staring at Marco.
“I’m not,” Marco says in desperation as he glances between Maxim and me.
“Stef, put the gun down. We can sort this out.”
“I’ve been sorting this out by paying him what my father owed him, but this idiot just keeps pushing me to my limit.”
“I didn’t fucking do anything ,” Marco screams in frustration. I press the gun harder into his skin. He sniffles and falls silent.
I shake my head. I can’t do this with Darya here. If I shoot this asshole, then his guards are going to go mental, and then I am actively putting her in direct danger. For fuck's sake, this is exactly why I left without telling her what was going on.
I drop the gun away from his head.
I step back, still gripping my gun tightly in case one of his security guys tries something.
Marco stands up, indignant and furious.
“How dare you fucking come into my space and point your fucking—"
Maxim has stepped right up close to him, and Marco immediately shuts his mouth.
Maxim speaks slowly and with deadly calm in his voice.
“Do you know who I am, Marco Colombo?”
Marco freezes and his shoulders tense up.
“I do.”
“Then sit down and shut the fuck up.”
Marco stands stiffly for a second, his shoulders pushed back as he fights for his own dignity. He is weighing the pros and cons of not doing what a Dubrov has just told him to do. It doesn’t take him long to step back and take a seat again.
Annoyance shoots through me. They have so much power.
Maxim turns towards me. “Stefano, get my sister out of here. Take her home.”
I glance at Darya, whose face is flushed with worry.
“Yeah. Sure,” I huff, feeling too angry to even worry about what the fuck should or is going to happen now.
I turn away from Marco without another word and march out the door. As I walk past Darya, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her with me.
I am shocked, though, because the moment my body comes into contact with hers, I feel calmer. It is the strangest thing, because in the past, nothing would have been able to calm me down that quickly and efficiently—but she just seems to do that to me, without even saying a word.
“Come on, baby girl,” I whisper to her.
I lead her to the car and make sure she is safely inside before I go over to my own door.
I want to yell at her and ask her what the hell she was thinking, putting herself in danger like that, but I am doing my best to hold myself back from doing that.
I pull out of the parking lot without saying a word.
I hate the fact that Maxim knows what is going on.
We head on to the road and start driving towards home. She keeps glancing over at me, but I don’t look back, because I’m still feeling so heated and angry, maybe betrayed because she told her brother. At least the blind rage is gone, thanks to her. It’s just an underlying fire simmering beneath the surface now.
“Stef,” she says softly, reaching out as though she wants to touch my arm, but then pulling her hand back when she sees my expression.
“What, Darya?” I snap angrily.
“I had to tell Maxim. I wasn’t going to, but he caught me trying to take Paval’s car so that I could come after you.”
“You shouldn’t have done either of those things, Darya. You should have just stayed at your brother's until I got back.”
“Not a chance. That isn’t fair. You just left without saying anything. I was really worried. Besides, what was I supposed to tell them when you just rushed out of there?”
“I had it handled. What did you have to worry about?”
“ You , you idiot. I was worried about you . And when we got there, you looked like you wanted to kill Marco.”
“I did want to kill him.”
She sighs softly.
“I don’t get why you had to tell your brother, though. I specifically asked you not to involve them. I told you I don’t want to be indebted to them.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Stef. You are family now . And family helps each other out without keeping a list of who owes what. No one thinks you are indebted, and no one think you owe them anything.” She sounds angry with me.
“Why the hell are you angry? You are the one who broke my trust.”
“I did no such thing. At the time, with the little information you left me with by storming out of the house like that, I did whatever I had to do to make sure you were safe.”
She folds her arms across her chest in a huff. Her mouth is tight, and her eyes are narrowed. She looks furious.
I roll my eyes.
She glares at me. “And, just so you know, I would do exactly the same thing again. So maybe next time don’t just leave like that.”
I clench my jaw and stare straight ahead, watching the lines of the road flash past in rhythmic monotony.
We remain silent for the rest of the drive home, and as soon as we park the car, Darya climbs out and storms inside. She is pissed off.
I can’t deal with that right now, even though it bothers me and adds to my stress to see her that way. I need a moment to get my head together.
I need to figure out what to do about Marco.
I go straight through to my office because it is the only place I can be completely alone and think right now.
I slump down into the office chair with a loud and heavy sigh.
I imagine Marco won’t have much to say about me bursting in there today—not after the famous Dubrov showed up there to back me up. I roll my eyes.
I guess I should be grateful for that. He came to help and didn’t cause a scene or anything—but fuck's sake, man, it annoys me, this power imbalance.
I want to have the same impact that the Dubrovs have.
I sit at my desk, drumming my pen on the wooden surface, thinking and thinking and trying to figure out what to do and why Marco would continue to cause shit for me like this.
But at some point, after considering every angle of Marco’s attack plan, I realize that Marco has absolutely nothing to gain from causing issues at my warehouses. He looked so confused when I burst in there and seemed adamant, sticking to his word that he has nothing to do with it.
Maybe he wasn’t lying.
Maybe, because of the shit he caused in the past, even though that is resolved now, I have been too focused on him; I haven’t considered that it might be someone else.
I was so blinded by my anger, I didn’t stop to think.
I lean back in my office chair and run my fingers through my hair.
Who, though?
Now I have to start from scratch to figure out who would want to attack my business. Fuck it. This is annoying.
My mind goes blank as I try to consider someone else who would have it out for me enough to cause this constant drama.
But then my mind drifts and I start thinking about Darya.
She said more than once that the reason she told Maxim was because she was worried about me.
I wonder what she actually meant by that.
Could that possibly mean that she cares about me? As in, she might have feelings for me?
Things between us have been going really great lately. If she has developed real feelings for me…. My heart thunders wildly with excitement.
I take a deep breath. Let’s not get a head of ourselves, here.
Caring about someone’s safety and falling for them are two very different things.
But the hope that is growing in my heart is pretty intense, because I know what is happening to me.
I have fallen in love with her.
Everything about her.
I push my chair away from my desk and stand up.
I need to speak to her. I was pretty rude to her when she came to help me, and that wasn’t fair. I should apologize, and maybe it’s time for me to share how I feel.
My stomach knots with nervous tension.
It’s time, though. I have to open up and be honest.
I head downstairs and the kitchen staff tells me they think she is in her own room. So I head back upstairs, and find her room empty—but on the bed is a folded piece of paper with my name on it.
I grab it and unfold it as worry strains my nerves.
Stefano,
I just went out for a bit because I needed to clear my head.
Darya
X
It’s a really straightforward note, simple and to the point, but instantly, I feel ill when I read it. If Marco isn’t the one causing shit with me, that means there is someone else out there, and Darya might be in danger wandering around on her own.
I drop the note and run from the room, hoping to find that she at least took the bodyguard with her, but knowing her, she didn’t.
I question Daniel, my head of security. “No, sir, no one went with her.”
“Not even Mikael?” My driver is trained in defense and would be able to look after her if anything happened.
He shakes his head. “She wanted to drive herself. I didn’t know it would be an issue.”
“Fuck.”
“Is something going on, sir?”
“Yes, I need to know where she is.”
“We can track the car. She took one of yours. Did you try phoning her?”
“No, I don’t think we need to track her yet. Let me give her a call first. If she doesn’t answer, you can do that for me.” I take a deep breath. “I wanted to find out if anyone was with her first.”
I pace up and down near the front door with the phone pressed against my ear. It’s ringing.
My stomach feels tense with worry.
This girl is my entire world, and if anything happens to her, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.
“Stef?” Her voice comes through the line, and I practically fall over from relief. I let out a heavy breath of air that I didn’t know I was holding.
“Where did you go?” I say, too heated and too abrupt.