Ruined By My Brother's Best Friend (by Silverwriter) novel Chapter 240

ARABELLA’S POV

“Do I need to change?” I asked, almost sprinting to catch up with Alvise’s long strides.

He glanced at his wristwatch and shook his head. “No. There’s no time for that.”

I sighed and trailed behind him, my mind spiralling. Why did he suddenly want me to follow him out and where were we going?

I tried my best to ignore the weird looks I got from the guards outside, but it got increasingly uncomfortable. They stared at me like I was a walking threat they needed to eliminate.

I held in my question until we reached the unusually large garage and Alvise unlocked the door. “Why are your guards looking at me like that?”

He opened the door for me and didn’t bother trying to see what I was talking about. “Like what?”

I sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with my fingers as I waited for him to get into the car.

When he did, I turned to look at him. “Like they hate me.”

His phone dinged with a message, and he picked it up, the corner of his lips lifting. “They probably do.”

My face fell. “What?” I said, stunned. “What did I ever do to them?”

“They don’t trust you, yet. It’s normal.”

“Why wouldn’t they trust me? Do I look like I came here with a bomb strapped to my body?”

Alvise turned to look at me, his eyes trailing up and down my body. “It’s possible.”

I frowned. “This is not funny.”

“I don’t find anything funny. I was answering your question.”

I clutched my chest and looked outside again, nervously scanning the dozens of men who were armed with weapons. “Well, thank you for not making me scared at all.” I said sarcastically.

His eyes, as blue as they were intense as always, twinkled with amusement. “You don’t have to be scared. They won’t hurt you.” He said it like it wasn’t even a possibility. “They are trained to protect my family and I with their lives, so it can get intense.”

I scooted closer to him, his words doing nothing to ease my uneasiness. “Sure. But let me put this out there, if one of these scary men….” I pointed out the window at a random guard. “…shoots me one day, you’ll be responsible.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s never going to happen.”

The atmosphere changed, something close to a promise flitting through his words.

I wanted to believe it. I really did.

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But as he started the engine and drove out of the large gates, I leaned against the headrest, still cautious and scared for my own life.

Living inside his house was dangerous, and I’d discovered outside wasn’t any safer. I felt like a sheep. amongst wolves, and event though Alvise promised me safety…

That didn’t change the fact that he was a wolf himself and was as dangerous as any of them were.

Maybe even worse.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, my face scrunched up as I stared at the club building we were currently parked in front of.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

I looked at Alvise, raising a brow. “You could be trying to kidnap me.” I hissed. “The least I can do is ask questions.”

“Trying?” He scoffed, pulling out a box from the center console. “By your definition of that word, I already ‘kidnapped’ you by bringing you to Russia. Why would I need to kidnap you again?”

I opened my mouth, but shut it right back and huffed. Sometimes, I preferred it when he was stoic and barely spoke, because then I didn’t have to struggle to catch up with his swift comebacks.

“Take this.”

My gaze lowered to the box in his outstretched hands. “What’s that?”

“Perhaps if you take it and look in the box yourself, you’ll know.” He said impatiently.

Ignoring his rudeness, I took the box cautiously and opened it.

It was a phone.

I forced a smile and met his gaze. “Thank you.”

Alvise leaned back in his seat and raised his brows. “Why is that on your face?”

I almost snorted. His definition of “that” was my lack of relief or excitement.

I was happy to get the phone, but I didn’t want him to know that. Getting excited about the little branches of freedom he offered meant that I was forgiving him for all he’d done.

And I still hadn’t.

“What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance.

“You don’t like it.” He observed, his eyes piercing into mine.

“It’s not that I don’t.” I whispered. “But let’s be honest.” I raised the phone. “This is probably bugged with a

tracker.”

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“It is.” Alvise said, not bothering to deny it.

you think I’ll escape when I’m given the chance?”

“I know you will.” He said coldly.

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Annoyed, I gritted my teeth. “Why do you want me here so much? It’s not like you give a fuck about me.”.

A flicker of anger passed through his eyes. “I don’t.” Ile agreed. “But watch that little mouth when you talk to me.”

I dug my nails into my palms, my heart sinking at how easy it was for him to look me in the face and tell me that.

“Noted.” I mumbled, sitting straight and refusing to look at him.

I heard his door open and close, and some seconds later, mine opened.

I could see him holding the door open from the corner of my eye, but I chose to ignore him.

“My patience is running low, Arabella, and you’re pushing it lower.” Alvise warned, his tone dangerously low. “Don’t.”

Biting my lip so hard it drew blood, I stomped out of the car and blew out an annoyed breath.

“Follow me.” He instructed, ignoring my very obvious display of anger and moving ahead after locking the

door.

Lincreased my pace so we were walking side by side, so I wouldn’t get lost among the crowds swimming in and out of the club.

We passed the entrance into a hallway that had two sets of large doors at the end. One was open, neon light spilling out alongside the pounding music, while the other was closed.

Alvise headed for the closed one and unlocked it with a card in his palm. The door slid open, and then he walked in, with me trailing behind him cautiously.

I looked around, shocked by the sight of where we currently were. It was like an exclusive section of a club, but bigger, more private, and somehow more intimidating.

The air seemed to shift the moment we were spotted.

My heart rate picked up as everyone’s eyes turned toward us as we walked in, most of them belonging to scary-looking men with guns on their tables.

People cleared the way for Alvise, bowing their heads or completely stopping and letting him walk past before they continued walking.

Sweat formed on my forehead as my eyes scanned each of the faces, and my breath hitched in my throat when a familiar face caught my eye.

I frowned, my eyes trailing to his tattoos, his gaze as unsettling as it had been the first time I saw him.

Tattoo Lord.

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He was the same strange man who’d called me a slut at the club in London when I refused to let him (ouch

I halted in the middle of the room and whispered, “I’ve seen him before.”

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Ruined By My Brother’s Best Friend

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