Page 21 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

A s soon as I step through the front door, I know something’s wrong.

I hear deep voices coming from one of the other rooms. The first is Dad’s… but the other? It sounds familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

Mario’s at my side and tenses up right away.

“What’s going on?” I ask him.

“Not sure. Didn’t know your father was having a meeting at the house today.”

I step forward, but he places his big hand on my shoulder, stopping me in place.

“Might be being paranoid,” he says, “but stay close.”

I nod. Mario listens for a second, and together we hear that the voices are coming from the den. We make our way to the tall, arched doors, the voices on the other side.

“Your father might not want to be interrupted, Isabella,” Mario says quietly.

“I need to know who’s here.”

Mario sighs, making it clear he understands there’s no talking me out of this.

I take a breath, squaring my shoulders as I push the door open.

And there he is—none other than Christian de la Rosa, sitting in one of my father’s armchairs like he owns the place.

Dad is across from him, his jaw tight and his hands clasped on his knee, a sure sign he’s barely keeping his temper in check. And to the side, perched on the edge of the couch like she might dissolve into tears at any second, is Stephania.

All three of them turn to look at me when I walk in. Christian’s expression is calm, almost amused, while Dad’s face darkens.

“Isabella,” he says sharply. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I live here?” I shoot back, my gaze flicking between them. “What’s going on?”

“Family matters,” Christian answers smoothly. He stands, adjusting his tailored suit like he’s preparing to give a speech. “You have a knack for walking into interesting situations, don’t you?”

My skin prickles at his tone. He’s trying to disarm me, to throw me off balance, but I’m not about to let him win. “Funny. I could say the same about you.”

“Isabella,” Dad warns, “this is not your business.”

“Like hell it’s not,” I snap, crossing my arms. “Why is he here?”

Christian smiles, then begins. “I came to address an offense. Your father and I seem to have a disagreement about what’s best for our families. It appears he’s decided to align your cousin with the Ivanov Bratva.”

“Alexei.” The name slips out of my mouth. Right away, I wish I hadn’t said anything.

“Yes, Alexei Plushenko,” he says. “A half-breed mutt of the Bratva, unworthy of a Mancini woman.”

My father leans forward in his seat. “Watch it. You’re a guest in my home, Christian.”

Christian doesn’t flinch. If anything, he seems amused.

Unpleasantly enough, what he just said about Alexei sounds precisely like something my father would say.

Now that I see Christian here, however, so eagerly pitching his own son for a marriage with Stephania, and as much as I am still an advocate for her freedom of choice, suddenly, my cousin’s romance with Omar no longer sounds like the sweet deal I hoped it would be.

Suddenly, I see a sour sliver of sense in my father’s decision.

“I’m merely stating facts,” Christian says. “You know as well as I do that alliances are about strength, about legacy. The Mancinis and the De la Rosas—now that is a union worth celebrating. Omar and Stephania, not this arrangement with Plushenko.”

My stomach twists as I glance at Stephania. She’s staring down at the ground in front of her.

“You want Stephania to marry your son?”

Christian shrugs. “Why not? He’s educated, capable, and loyal to his family, unlike certain others.”

“Enough,” Dad snaps. “I’ve already made my decision, and it stands. Stephania will marry Alexei Plushenko. That’s final.”

Christian’s smile fades, his eyes narrowing. “Domenico, I’m warning you. This path you’re on—aligning yourself with the Ivanovs—it’s a mistake. One that will cost you dearly.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise,” Christian replies. There’s a chilling calm to his voice. “You’ve insulted my family and my legacy by announcing this engagement without consulting me. Do you really think I’d let that slide?”

My father stands. “You don’t scare me, Christian. And you sure as hell don’t dictate what happens in my family.”

“Then you’re a fool,” Christian says, his calm cracking just enough to reveal the steel beneath. “You’re choosing war over peace. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to reconsider.”

Stephania makes a small noise, like she’s trying to hold back a sob. I move toward her instinctively, sitting next to her on the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s OK,” I whisper.

Christian turns his gaze on Stephania now, his expression softening just slightly. “You deserve better than this, my dear.”

“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” my father says.

Christian looks back at him, his smile returning. “Very well. I’ve said what I came to say.”

With that, he buttons his jacket and nods before turning and walking out.

Dad sinks back into his chair, his face a mask of barely contained rage. “That man,” he mutters. “He’s going to push me too far.”

I glance at Stephania, who’s shaking her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I can’t do this,” she whispers. “I can’t…”

“You don’t have to,” I say firmly, though my heart aches for her. “We’ll figure something out.”

Without another word, Stephania finally bursts into the tears she’d so obviously been holding back. Sobbing, she runs out of the room and down the hall, her cries fading in the distance.

Dad doesn’t respond. He just stares into the fireplace, the reflected flames in his eyes look like a storm waiting to break. And me? My mind is spinning, torn between comforting Stephania and planning my next move.

“Dad, I don’t get it,” I say. “Christian attacked us. He killed our people, the Ivanovs’ people. And here we are, having him for tea like it’s no big deal?”

My father sighs. “It’s not that simple, Isa.”

“It sounds like you’re not telling me the full story here, Dad. Why are you keeping me in the dark? Furthermore, you don’t seem that shocked to hear about Stephania and Omar’s connection. What am I missing?”

Again, he sighs, lowering his gaze for a moment.

“I didn’t even know she was in love with someone else, Isa.

Stephania has been so gentle and obedient this whole time.

I’m honestly in shock. But the truth is, since you insist on being told everything, when the Ivanovs first approached me with a marriage proposal, it was for you—for my daughter.

They’d never even seen you or Stephania, but they wanted my daughter.

“They understood how much you mean to me, my heir,” he adds.

“Except I’m not really your heir. That’s why Stephania has taken center stage here. You know that. I know that.”

“I’m secretly still hoping you’ll change your mind,” he shoots back with a faint smile. “But I suppose things worked out the way they were supposed to. I still had Stephania to offer up for marriage, even though I’m not that keen on it, given Alexei’s?—”

“Origins?”

“Yes.”

I scoff and roll my eyes at him. “You and your old-school bullshit?—”

“It’s tradition. And in our family, tradition is sacred!

” he snaps. “Point is, whether I like it or not, the alliance we’re getting through this marriage between us and the Ivanovs protects both families.

That being said, I cannot start a fight with Christian de la Rosa either. Not without solid proof.”

“Solid proof?”

“We’re quite sure that it was the De la Rosas who attacked the party. But we’re not positive. No palpable evidence.”

“Who else would it even be?”

“We have countless enemies in this city,” he says. “I can think of ten off the top of my head who’d jump at the chance to take out the Ivanovs and Mancinis in one shot.”

“But it had to be the De la Rosas. They’re moving into town, and Christian’s obviously keen to either align with us or wipe us out.”

Dad sits back, looking like the weight of the world’s on his shoulders.

“Whoever it was, they covered their tracks well. And now De la Rosa’s here, threatening me to my face. He knows what’s going on and that I can’t retaliate without looking like a bloodthirsty tyrant.”

“So what are you going to do?” I ask.

He rubs a hand over his face. “I’m too tired to think about it right now. Why don’t you go and see to your cousin.”

“Yeah. I’ll go talk to her.”

“Thank you, Bella .”

With that, Dad turns his attention back to the fire. I get up and leave, making my way to Stephania’s room.