Page 45 of Bratva's Stolen Bride
“He kidnapped her,” Richmond growls. “From my territory.”
I meet Richmond’s angry green eyes. Yeah, that might take a bit of smoothing over. Possibly some money.
“Payton, can we just talk for a moment?” Hayley takes a cautious step forwards, and Payton looks at her longingly.
I can’t withhold anything from my girl. I check my app. The drones are still perfectly online, locked onto each of the men.
Bringing my hand to Payton’s throat, I tilt her face up. Her trusting eyes meet mine. She’s so beautiful. My instincts war inside me. But I love her, and I’m certain she belongs to me.
“Go to your sister.” Then I release her, and her incandescent smile tells me I’ve done the right thing. The sisters are in each other’s arms instantly.
I glare at the men behind them.
The two girls talk as fast as a machine gun, but so high-pitched I think I can’t catch half of it because only dogs can hear that frequency.
“Do you think we should hire some girls in their early twenties as spies? No need to even encrypt. No one else has a hope of deciphering their speech,” says Harlsden casually.
“Wait so…” Payton says, then the rest is impenetrable.
“My wife isn’t in that business,” I mutter. But he has a point.
Payton turns to me. “My sister is with your enemy?”
“Yes.” I scowl. This could be inconvenient.
“But…” She pouts, then resumes talking to Hayley.
They’re so similar in some ways, and clearly happy to be reunited, that I can’t spoil it for Payton.
I was wondering, and I suppose this is what love is. Her pleasure is more important to me than my interests, or those of Beckenham.
“Perhaps we can come to some terms,” I say warily, turning to the other men. Hopefully they won’t need permission from all of the members, because I sold weapons to the Essex Cartel last year, and I don’t doubt the London Mafia Syndicate is aware. They certainly will be when Essex uses them. And I did kill a few of Westminster’s men only a few months ago, but they were in Beckenham trying to go behind my back and get support for a fucking pedestrianisation scheme, and how are the businesses in my area supposed to keep going without people being able to drive and park near the shops?
There’s a tense silence, then Harlsden shrugs. “Why doesn’t he join the London Maths Club?”
“He,” Greenwich points at me angrily, “doesn’t represent the ideals of the Maths Club. Hekidnappedher. That’s rule one. No kidnapping.”
“More of a guideline, I think,” Harlsden mutters.
“Kidnapping the woman you’re going to marry is practically compulsory for the London Maths—” Richmond swears colourfully. “I mean, Mafia Syndicate.”
“You people are entirely unserious,” I say levelly. “Is it true you call it the Maths Club because someone couldn’t admit to their wife that he was a mafia boss?”
“Yes, Canary Wharf. That—” Richmond begins.
“Serious enough to kill your son and all his friends.” Greenwich folds his arms. “And I bet I could kill you before your drones took me out.”
“You’d be dead before I hit the ground,” I reply, and it’s no more than the truth.
“You’re not going to kill us, and we won’t take the girl from you,” Harlsden says tersely. “So could you call off your drones, Beckenham? And Greenwich, stop antagonising him.”
Greenwich gives me a dark look, but mutters, “Fine.”
“You’re sure?” Hayley says as she steps back from Payton, drawing my attention, so I leave the drones.
Payton nods. “Absolutely.” And her voice has that ring of certainty. She glances around at me.
We’re all watching her now.
