Page 24 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
Conversation was once again impossible, and I finally told her that I didn’t actually spend my valuable time having her every move tracked. “Despite what you might think, I’m actually asking you these questions because I’m interested in you, Nat. You’re my wife now, after all.”
I didn’t remind her that it was her choice, but it hung in the air between us.
“You’re right,” she said, somewhat stiffly. “I’m just used to being overly paranoid, I guess. What made you seek out this arrangement in the first place?”
“On the contrary, it was your people who contacted me. I was just going about my business.”
“In LA,” she said.
“It’s a great city with lots of opportunities.”
“Mmhm.”
“Should I have called you up and asked you out on a date instead?” I asked. Her head whipped around to stare at me in disbelief, and I raised my shoulders, all innocence. Which I was, as far as she was concerned. Well, in this matter, anyway.
“How could I have ever known it would be you in that chapel this morning? Answer me that.”
“You couldn’t have known,” she admitted. “Nobody knew but me.”
“Now ask me if I’m glad about it,” I said.
But we were already pulling up to the valet in front of my club, and she didn’t have time to recover from that little surprise attack.
There was a private entrance around back that would have been easier and more private, but I didn’t want easy and private. As I took my bride’s hand firmly in mine, we swept past the long line snaking around the corner. The photographers I’d arranged snapped picture after picture, and I was confident that all of Los Angeles would soon know that the important new businessman in town was with the daughter of the most powerful mob family in the state.
There was no need to pause at the door, but I did anyway, greeting the head bouncer and putting my arm around Nat’s shoulders. Some of the photographers actually called her name, like she was a celebrity, which she probably was in her own right, despite the low-key life she led. It was impossible not to know who the Fokins were; they owned half of California, and she was the heiress of the head of the family.
It didn’t matter that she wore a simple linen dress when all the other women in the line wore skin-tight, black, and sparkling outfits. They were the ones who felt out of place now that they’d seen my little princess. I swelled with pride as we finally made our way in, bypassing the crush with the aid of another bouncer who cleared a path.
It was easy to see that Nat was irritated about the photographers, but the pulsing beat soon made her forget about them. She tugged my hand toward the dance floor, eager to lose herself in the music. In Milan, I had loved watching how carefree she was when she danced, but now the thought of any other man grinding up on her made me grind my teeth. The first one who got too close to my wife was going to regret it, and I wasn’t in the mood to break any skulls that evening.
The fierce burst of possessiveness surprised me, but she was mine now, after all. Only mine.
Once she was settled in my special VIP corner booth and surrounded by guards, I settled the small problem with the manager and hurried back to her. She looked lonely and annoyed with an ignored drink on the table in front of her. As soon as I swept past the guards and sent them somewhere they couldn’t be seen, she perked up a little.
I grabbed her drink and took a gulp, handing it to her to do the same. Her smile nearly knocked me back in the padded booth. The light was more subtle up here, but the strobes from the dance floor still made their way into our sanctuary, flashing across her beautiful face to tease me with just glimpses of her.
“The music is great,” she shouted over the noise. “The whole place is.”
We’d gone to just about every club in Milan, and I knew she was no stranger to the nightlife in her hometown, so it was high praise. I grinned down at her, telling her we had a surprise celebrity DJ coming on at midnight.
“We should stay,” she said happily, grooving in her seat.
I was about to suggest that we dance together and order the guards to clear a space outside our booth when several large shadows fell across our table, blocking the blinking white strobe lights.
Nat gasped, eyes wide as she shrank away from me, all the liveliness sucked out of her. I turned to see her cousin Matvey and her two incredibly pissed-off uncles muscling past my security with looks of murder on their faces.
