The Russian Fighter (Mafia Men #1)

The Balance of Loyalty

Chapter 28

Edited

"Why are we here, Igor?" Maksim said this with his eyes trained on me, unwavering.

"I have an announcement that concerns every person in this room."

"Do you really believe the time is wise, Igor?" Israel started, holding the hand of his sister sat at his side.

A sister that happened to own the name Elvira Moretti. The same girl that attends high school with me, and cleaned my wounds after Erik left me to weep on the floor of the bathroom, bloodied by his attempt to take me without my consent.

"The word will spread indefinitely, with or without, my having not entertained the Familia about the new contract."

"New contract?" Papa said, exhaustion projected by the shadows under his eyes, and the gray hairs thinning over the smooth blonde I inherited.

Something cold and heavy laid upon my chest, spreading to my heart. Was that guilt? Or sympathy?

Maybe both.

"Now that there is peace between my sons. And Angelo has held his word on warding his men off any attacks, it is in my best interest to do what should have been done long before I came here."

"Your sons," began Boris, "are still in a feud. Nothing has changed."

"That is why I am going to offer another contract."

"You're going to auction my daughter like some trophy to these men," Papa stated. "How sick can you get?"

Igor rolled his eyes. "Not so much as you neglect to understand. She is almost out of high school. Eighteen. My granddaughter is entitled to a wedding, as tradition, just like her cousin was gifted."

At that moment the cold became icy, punching a hole through my chest and leaving me hollow. I dared not meet anyone's gaze, though I got shivers in what I knew entailed several of those gazes to be on me.

"What of her virginity," asked Jean-Luc, his accent darkened with boredom. "Tradition only allows virgin daughters of untouched contact be had a wedding. She is used goods."

Maksim growled. "Watch your mouth, boy. I'll cut out your tongue for you."

Jean-Luc sliced Maksim with clouds of gray. "No disrespect. But I follow the rules of the Familia. Her grandfather should have read them before humiliating the girl like this. A touched princess of the Mafia is a taint of skin that no men of our rank will accept. We have preferences to stand by."

"As I understand," Igor pitched. "But I ask you as humble grandfather wanting my grandchild to know she will be safe in the Mafia. I implore you to put the loss of her innocence aside, and perceive what lies in her blood. She is the Bratva's only daughter, interwoven with Italian from her grandmother."

"What ye be lookin' to offer," Gavin spoke up, speculating me like a roast turkey on its platter. "Aye, the lass is fairly beautiful. But my father is nae gonna accept her as much as the next widow."

"So are you saying you don't accept?"

"No," Gavin rushed. "I'm willing to overlook the small mishap. The wee lass will be guid for a wife. If she is nae spoken for."

"She's not," Igor said the same time Maksim bared his thoughts, "She's mine."

"Stay out of this," my grandfather cut daggers at Maksim, confusing the men and me.