Bratva Bride (Bratva, #1)

by T.J. Maguire

As Vincenzo brought the apple to his lips and bit into it, I quickly pulled out a throwing knife from inside my coat and flung it straight at him. The blade flew through the air, piercing the apple with textbook precision. Vincenzo sat frozen in place, the apple in his mouth, his hands still gripping the sides with my blade stuck right in the middle. He slowly pulled the apple away from his face and held it up in the air, looking at it with bewilderment. His green eyes landed on me and I could see the fire burning within. "V sleduyushchiy raz eto budet tvoy glaz." Next time, it'll be your eye, I said in Russian, my eyes fixed firmly on Vincenzo. "I have no idea what the fuck you just said, and I don't care. That was hot as fuck,"

"Intelligente e bella." Smart and beautiful, Alessandro said in Italian. "I preferisco mortale." I prefer deadly, I replied in Italian. I watched in amusement as all three of the De Luca men looked at me in surprise, their jaws dropping open. They hadn't anticipated that I could speak their native tongue.

"Fucking hell," I heard Lukyan mutter behind the door. "Is it that time of the month or something?" I ran my hand down my face, groaning. Of course he'd say some stupid shit like that. My second time properly meeting Arturo and he's already hearing all about my period. Fucking joy. "Don't be an idiot," I heard Nikolai reply. Great! They're both fucking out there. "You know we monitor that shit." They fucking what?! "Calendar says it's still two and a half weeks away.” "Right. Right." I could just imagine Lukyan nodding along. "I forgot that we started doing that after she tried to burn me with that blowtorch. Damn Shark Week," he grumbled. Oh my god, I'm gonna kill them. I'm going to fucking kill them. They track my menstrual cycle?!

"And I'm not like every made man. I know exactly who you are, exactly what you're capable of, and it only makes me want you more."

"I don't want a docile woman, a weak woman. I want a queen. A woman to help me conquer and rule. A woman who will stand by my side, not cower behind me.”

Fuck. She's beautiful. And fierce. And sassy. And—shit, my foot is killing me! Did she have to stab me so fucking hard? Well, you did kind of attack her. No, I didn't. Yes, you did. And now you're talking to yourself like a crazy person. Eh, what else is new?

"Everything okay, Illayana?" he asked, looking back at her. "Da. Why?" She tilted her head to the side, like she was confused why he was even asking. I saw her other brothers pop out from behind Aleksandr's large frame. One was on the left side, the other on the right. They looked like they were using his big, overgrown body as a shield. Man, they looked terrified. Well, she did throw a knife and shoot at them, all within a thirty-second period. I'd say their fear is warranted.

"Quien es la puta ahora?"

“¿Por què no puedo sentir mis piernas?” Why can’t I feel my legs? “Eso es porque mi encantadora hija te cortó la médula espinal.” That's because my lovely daughter severed your spinal cord.

“If Gabriella touches you again, I’ll kill her.” Yep. And I had no doubt that she could do it, too.

Oh, fuck, I think he might kill me. With his dick.

“Have you ever wondered what makes your skin stay on?” I blinked, looking at Christian in shock. What kind of fucking question is that? “Uh, what?” “Your skin.” He inclined his head to my bare arm, as if I didn’t know what skin was and he was pointing it out to me. “Have you ever wondered what makes it stay on?” “No, I haven’t. Because I’m fucking normal.” I adjusted my position on the couch, eyeing my bodyguard suspiciously. Christian smirked. “It’s a legitimate question. I’m sure I’m not the first person to ever wonder about it.”

“I want you to deliver a message to Franco for me,” he said darkly, danger and violence dripping from him. “Tell him the King and Queen of La Cosa Nostra are only just getting started.”