Page 47
Story: Forced Bratva Bride
The question carried no accusation, but I felt exposed nonetheless at his intrusion. “Just trying to understand.”
“There’s years of history, Larissa,” he murmured gently. When I looked up, he cocked his head at me. “Why don’t we take a break?”
I was making no progress as it was and so I nodded, putting aside the computer.
“Found anything?” he asked casually, though I saw the interest glimmer in his eyes.
“Nothing so far,” I shrugged.
To my surprise, he looked disappointed. I realized then that Gio would always be searching for a needle in the haystack, convinced it was there even if it wasn’t. I couldn’t prove to him their innocence because even though there was no evidence against my brothers, he had already deemed them guilty.
It would take something else, something different, to show him what my brothers were. And then, an idea struck. An idea I chose, for now, to keep to myself.
Chapter 15 - Gio
I watched Larissa's face as she took in the quaint storefronts of Cold Spring, her eyes bright with such sheer joy, that I knew coming here had been the right decision.
Just last night, a wistful look crossed her face over dinner. When I asked what was on her mind, she expressed her discontent with being cooped up in the city for so long.
I realized how difficult all this had been for her. Her freedom, however little of it, had been taken away from her because of me. When I suggested a day trip somewhere outside of New York City for a change, I was thrilled when her eyes lit up and she asked if we could drive to Cold Spring.
The morning sun caught in her blonde hair, and she glimmered with such life that, for a moment, I stopped to consider she might have been the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
“You're staring, Gio,” Larissa said without looking at me, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Just making sure you don't run.” I kept my voice steady, though the truth was more complex. The sight of her, relaxed and so happy, was strangely mesmerizing. Today, I was seeing the real Larissa—carefree and bright, and I was completely smitten by this version.
“Where would I run to?” She gestured around at the Hudson Valley landscape that framed the small town. “Besides, you'd catch me.”
There was something in her tone, a teasing challenge that made my skin prickle. “Yes,” I said simply. “I would.”
She winked at me and nudged my shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows comically. I groaned, rolled my eyes, and then she laughed—a loud, whimsical laugh that fit right in with the red leaves of autumn. She lit up the room and my day with that laugh.
We walked along Main Street, our footsteps falling into an easy rhythm.
“Oh, look!” She grabbed my arm suddenly, her fingers warm through the fabric of my shirt. She pointed to a window display of antiques. “Can we go in?”
I nodded, trying to ignore the slight pressure of her hand, which she'd yet to remove. Inside, the shop smelled of furniture polish and old books. Larissa wandered from shelf to shelf, picking up small items and examining them with genuine curiosity.
She stopped at a glass case containing vintage jewelry. “That's beautiful,” she murmured, pointing to a delicate silver bracelet with tiny blue stones.
The shopkeeper, a gray-haired woman with glasses hanging from a chain around her neck, approached. “That's from the 1920s. The stones are aquamarine—match your eyes perfectly.”
I glanced between the bracelet and Larissa's eyes. The woman wasn't wrong.
“How much is it?” Larissa asked.
The shopkeeper named a figure that made Larissa's eyebrows shoot up. “That's... steep,” she said.
“It's an antique, dear.”
“What if I buy something else too?” Larissa grabbed a nearby porcelain figure—a ballerina with a chipped tutu. “Could you do a package deal?”
I bit back a smile as the shopkeeper shook her head. “I'm afraid not.”
“But the bracelet has a small scratch on the clasp,” Larissa pointed out, leaning closer to the case. “And I noticed your 'sale' sign outside.”
“That's for selected items only.”
“There’s years of history, Larissa,” he murmured gently. When I looked up, he cocked his head at me. “Why don’t we take a break?”
I was making no progress as it was and so I nodded, putting aside the computer.
“Found anything?” he asked casually, though I saw the interest glimmer in his eyes.
“Nothing so far,” I shrugged.
To my surprise, he looked disappointed. I realized then that Gio would always be searching for a needle in the haystack, convinced it was there even if it wasn’t. I couldn’t prove to him their innocence because even though there was no evidence against my brothers, he had already deemed them guilty.
It would take something else, something different, to show him what my brothers were. And then, an idea struck. An idea I chose, for now, to keep to myself.
Chapter 15 - Gio
I watched Larissa's face as she took in the quaint storefronts of Cold Spring, her eyes bright with such sheer joy, that I knew coming here had been the right decision.
Just last night, a wistful look crossed her face over dinner. When I asked what was on her mind, she expressed her discontent with being cooped up in the city for so long.
I realized how difficult all this had been for her. Her freedom, however little of it, had been taken away from her because of me. When I suggested a day trip somewhere outside of New York City for a change, I was thrilled when her eyes lit up and she asked if we could drive to Cold Spring.
The morning sun caught in her blonde hair, and she glimmered with such life that, for a moment, I stopped to consider she might have been the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
“You're staring, Gio,” Larissa said without looking at me, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Just making sure you don't run.” I kept my voice steady, though the truth was more complex. The sight of her, relaxed and so happy, was strangely mesmerizing. Today, I was seeing the real Larissa—carefree and bright, and I was completely smitten by this version.
“Where would I run to?” She gestured around at the Hudson Valley landscape that framed the small town. “Besides, you'd catch me.”
There was something in her tone, a teasing challenge that made my skin prickle. “Yes,” I said simply. “I would.”
She winked at me and nudged my shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows comically. I groaned, rolled my eyes, and then she laughed—a loud, whimsical laugh that fit right in with the red leaves of autumn. She lit up the room and my day with that laugh.
We walked along Main Street, our footsteps falling into an easy rhythm.
“Oh, look!” She grabbed my arm suddenly, her fingers warm through the fabric of my shirt. She pointed to a window display of antiques. “Can we go in?”
I nodded, trying to ignore the slight pressure of her hand, which she'd yet to remove. Inside, the shop smelled of furniture polish and old books. Larissa wandered from shelf to shelf, picking up small items and examining them with genuine curiosity.
She stopped at a glass case containing vintage jewelry. “That's beautiful,” she murmured, pointing to a delicate silver bracelet with tiny blue stones.
The shopkeeper, a gray-haired woman with glasses hanging from a chain around her neck, approached. “That's from the 1920s. The stones are aquamarine—match your eyes perfectly.”
I glanced between the bracelet and Larissa's eyes. The woman wasn't wrong.
“How much is it?” Larissa asked.
The shopkeeper named a figure that made Larissa's eyebrows shoot up. “That's... steep,” she said.
“It's an antique, dear.”
“What if I buy something else too?” Larissa grabbed a nearby porcelain figure—a ballerina with a chipped tutu. “Could you do a package deal?”
I bit back a smile as the shopkeeper shook her head. “I'm afraid not.”
“But the bracelet has a small scratch on the clasp,” Larissa pointed out, leaning closer to the case. “And I noticed your 'sale' sign outside.”
“That's for selected items only.”
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