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“My family.” I whisper softly. “Are they okay? Have they done what was asked of them? Will I be returned to them?”
Then suddenly, the room erupts like a storm.
Both men move at once, their large forms closing in on me as they tower over me. I press myself back into my chair, staring up at them both with pure terror in my eyes.
Mikhail’s eyes are furious as he moves in closer, and Nikolai looks like a predator ready to go hunting, his jaw clenched so tightly that I can see the muscle jumping in his cheek. He leans down, his thick arms braced on the table as he growls into my face, making my entire body tremble.
“Who the fuck are you?”
He spits out at me.
The weight of his question crushes me, my breath stuttering as tears prick the back of my eyes. My throat tightens as I swallow hard, a sob threatening to claw its way out. My voice shakes as I answer him.
“After moving to England, we changed our surname fromGiovannitoNavo.”I wrap my arms around my middle, desperate to hold onto something as I continue. “My name is Chiara Giovanni. I’m the daughter of Francesco Giovanni, and the sister of Dario Giovanni. My father was an underboss, but my brother…”
I trail off as the expressions on their faces morph into something unrecognisable.
Nikolai’s brows furrow, and Mikhail explodes.
“Fuck!”
He curses as he reaches for my plate, hurling it against the wall.
I flinch violently at his outburst, shrinking further into my chair.
As Mikhail runs a hand over his face, he begins to pace around the room, his chest heaving as he roars out a string of curses in Russian.
It’s a terrifying sight.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes as I try to stop myself from crying, knowing that another show of weakness will only make things worse. My throat becomes raw as I swallow back a sob, my mind still racing because of their reactions.
My gaze shifts to Nikolai. He’s still standing in the same place, his tattooed hands folded against the back of his neck as he shakes his head, his icy blue eyes locked on mine. There’s something there—confusion, frustration, disbelief—but I can’t bring myself to hold his stare.
I look back to Mikhail, realising that he’s no longer pacing as he glances back over to his brother. My heart pounds harder in my chest as I try to breathe, terror spreading through my body as both brothers move towards each other.
They exchange sharp words in Russian, their voices laced with anger and frustration. With every word that they throw at each other, my head feels lighter and lighter. Everything around me ceases to exist except for the deep growls of their voices.
Soon after, they escalate to shouting, but then suddenly, it stops. A strange quiet fills the room, broken by their shallow breaths. I force myself to look away from them as they switch languages—softer murmurs in English now—voices clear enough that I’m able to understand them.
Together, they take a step closer, and in fear of what they might do to me, I force myself to look up at them. When I do meet their eyes, I gasp.
There’s an undeniable mix of possessiveness and control there.
“What’s done is now done.” Nikolai states, his voice hoarse, but firm too. “We had a doubt, and you have proven us right, darling.” Mikhail remains silent. Together, their presence fills the space around me. “We won’t harm you.” Nikolai tells me softly, his words anything but reassuring. “We just want to love you. And we want to keep you. You’re ours, darling.”
I shudder at his words, unable to even process what he’s saying.
The last thing I want is this psychotic version of ‘love’, especially not with these two Bratva soldiers.
I want to scream, to fight back until they’re both a pile of bloody mess, but I know that’s not possible. They’ll kill me before I even touch them, and maybe then, that will be my way out.
Sometimes, I still can’t believe this is real.
Sometimes, I feel like this is another awful nightmare, like the ones I would have after Mama’s death.
Blinking through my tears, I look up again at the two men.
I’m losing myself already.