Page 21 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

Elena seemed different tonight. The previous dinner we went to, the one at her family’s, she had hovered over me, was careful with her words, and stingy with her laughter. But tonight, she seemed to be having fun.

Carlo was hosting a dinner for us, to introduce Elena to our family, he had explained. He’d invited a dozen extended family members, and I had expected Elena to be shy, but she wasn’t holding back or siding up to me for support.

I watched as she spoke to my cousin Marco. He was telling some uproarious story about the time I thought I had a shot at race-car driving.

“And then,” Marco continued, gesturing wildly with his wine glass, “Gastone shows up covered in mud from head to toe, trying to explain why he'd driven the Ferrari into a ditch!”

Elena burst into laughter as she glanced in my direction, amused beyond belief.

“What?” I defended myself. “I was seventeen!”

“And someone had messed with the brakes.” I shot a pointed look at Carlo, who leaned in and whispered something into Elena’s ear. She chuckled.

“What?” I asked, rather annoyed by how they were ganging up on me. “What did he just say to you?”

“Um…” She gave Carlo a conspiratorial look. “Should I?”

“Oh, come on. We all know what he said.” Larissa rolled her eyes. Caspian had not made it tonight. He had a work thing, apparently. But I wondered if he was just avoiding my family.

“Which was?” I asked, pointedly.

“The fact that Dino and I made Carlo do it, of course. You were a terrible driver!” Larissa informed me without cushioning the blow.

“I was not!” I protested.

“We were, too,” Dino said, pulling up to Elena to refill her glass. She smiled at him, but for some reason, it didn’t reach her eyes. It was just a flash of an expression, but I thought nothing more of it. She was probably exhausted by all this chatter. My family had a tendency to be hectic.

Besides, the next thing I knew, she had strolled off to talk to an elderly aunt who seemed to be standing alone. Aunt Sophia, who rarely spoke to anyone but her cats these days, proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes speaking to Elena. About what? I could only guess.

I gave Elena her space, for she seemed to be enjoying all the mingling in talking, and went over to the bar for a moment of introspection.

I gazed around the room and realized evenings like these were rare.

Our extended family was spread across the world, and to have so many of us in the same room gave me something to be thankful for.

Carlo’s home hadn't felt this alive in years. None of ours had.

In a way, I held Elena responsible for bringing us all together. Everyone was here to meet her.

Soon after, we were all called for dinner, and I took my seat beside Elena.

Not for the first time that night, I observed just how beautiful she looked.

She was wearing this emerald green velvet dress that revealed her shoulders just delicately enough, before leading to the full sleeves.

Her eyes—they shimmered in that dress. And her hair, God, how I longed to run my hands through it and see if it felt as silky as it looked.

I realized I hadn’t been listening to the conversation around me until I heard my name from across the table.

“It's no wonder Gastone swept you up so quickly,” my cousin, Isobella, said with a wink to Elena. “A woman like you is a rare creature indeed.”

I looked at Elena to see her reaction, feeling a heat crawling down my neck. There was truth in what Isobella said. But to my confusion, Elena didn’t look pleased, nor playful. Elena's smile flickered—just a fraction, gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

” He can be very persuasive when he wants something,” she replied smoothly, but there was a new tension in her shoulders. She refused to meet my eye.

I took a sip of my wine, studying her throughout dinner.

While everything seemed okay on the surface, while she charmed everyone present and laughed at the right moments, I felt like she wasn’t fully in the moment.

She hardly touched her plate, barely made conversation with me, and at times seemed to drift away from the conversation, her gaze turning distant.

It wasn’t long before I realized it wasn’t just a hunch.

Larissa had to take her name twice to get her to pass the butter.

Something was eating at her, and when Larissa gave me a quizzical look, I realized my sister felt it too.

The two of us were the only ones who knew the real Elena.

The real Elena was usually fully present.

She was always charming, had been tonight too, but there was something… off.

While the others went off for drinks after dinner, I slid up to Elena before she could join them. “Hey,” I muttered. “Can we have a moment?”

She looked after my family for a brief moment before turning back to me. Then, she nodded. She seemed reluctant, which surprised me. The Elena I knew would never feel inconvenienced by a private conversation.

I pulled her away and walked her out to a private balcony, overlooking the lawns.

The sudden quiet after the noise of the dining room felt even louder. For a moment, we just stood there and adjusted to the change.

“Is something wrong, Elena?” I asked finally, leaning against the railing and turning my neck towards her.

“Nothing,” she said automatically, as though without thinking. She took a step away from me. “Everything's fine. I swear.”

My eyes travelled with the motion of her creating distance, and I sighed, standing closer. “Talk to me.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It's nothing. Really. Just... tired, I guess.”

“Bullshit,” I called it. “You've been somewhere else all night. If you don't want to be here—”

“It's not that,” she cut me off, finally meeting my eyes. “Your family is wonderful. They've been so kind to me, and I'm grateful for that. Really, I am.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “But something’s on your mind, and we aren’t walking out of here until you tell me what it is. Things fester, Elena. And I’d rather you be out with it now before it blows up badly afterwards.”

She bit her lip, hesitating. “It's nothing,” she repeated, attempting to move past me.

I blocked her path, and my patience bordered on non-existent by this point. “Elena, you need to talk to me. Whatever it is, it's eating you up inside. You'll explode if you keep it in. I mean it.”

Her eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Like you talk to me about what's eating you up? You never talk to me.”

I flinched, but didn't back down. “This isn't about me, Elena. Nor is that true. I talked to you about Adriana. You’re trying to deflect from yourself, and I won’t have it.”

“You won’t have it?” Her voice rose slightly before she caught herself, glancing nervously at the door to the house before lowering her voice. “You're the one who took me, who's still holding onto this... this hatred for my family for something I had nothing to do with, and I am suffering for it.”

There it was—the real issue.

“I don't blame you for what happened to Adriana,” I said carefully. “And I never allowed it to be a thing between us. Never.”

“That’s not true and you know it!” She raised her voice again, her lower lip quivering.

“Here I am, being so nice to everyone, actually putting in an effort, and you were acting like a brooding little brat that whole night with my family. With Kate. Even with Larissa, your own sister. Everyone tonight is calling you lucky, while I had to defend your behaviour to my brothers! Do you have any idea what a fool I felt like? Defending you when all they passed was judgment? You embarrassed me, Gastone! How would you feel if I acted all cold and distant when it came to your family?”

Even though I felt anger at her words, by her lack of understanding, a small part of my heart bloomed with affection. “You defended me against them?”

“Of course,” she nodded, her eyes still flashing with agitation. “Because despite everything, despite how unfair this whole situation is, I understand your pain. I understand why you wanted revenge.”

Her words left me momentarily speechless. Elena, who had every right to hate me, didn’t. She defended me. One usually didn’t do that for people they were apathetic about.

“Could it be…” I asked with a grin. “That you’ve started growing fond of me?”

“Oh, stop it,” she flicked my arm, her eyes still burning.

“Of course I’m fond of you, you fool. But I also can’t continue living like this.

Do you have any idea how conflicting it is to know you believe my family—” She stopped short, as though she couldn’t bring herself to say Adriana’s name. Like it was too painful.

“They did it,” I said, my mood dampening.

“I talked to Federico,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “He's looking into what happened to Adriana. He swears they weren't involved.”

“You did what?” I roared. “I told you, specifically, not to say anything!”

“And I said you didn’t have to come for dinner that night. But you came and acted so hostile that there were questions. I had to say something!”

“You didn’t have to do anything.” I inched closer, until I was hovering over her.

She looked up at me, her eyes defiant but calm. “Well, I did. And I still think we should find the real culprits so Adriana’s death doesn’t go unpunished. Don’t you? For how long—”

“And if your family did it?” I growled. “If we find the real culprits, as you say, and discover they did it, then what, Elena? Then what ?”

She gasped, her face turning pale. A strange silence fell over us, and I, too, realized I didn’t have an answer for that one. I thought taking Elena was enough of a revenge. I thought denying Giovanni of Larissa’s love was enough.

Yet, after each action, none felt enough in retribution, and I also couldn’t imagine doing what they did. I couldn’t imagine killing a woman precious to them. There was no answer to this insane situation, no revenge befitting enough.