For a second, the room was dead silent. Only the sound of our breaths and the distant hum of city lights was heard.
I wanted to tell him he was wrong and that I'd never hurt her. That all this blood, the rage, and the madness was because I loved her. But the truth stayed stuck in my throat because deep down, I wasn't sure he was wrong.
The office door slammed behind Viktor. He tossed his jacket onto the couch, and my jaw tightened. I could still taste blood in my mouth. It was someone else's blood, but I didn't care.
He turned on me the second we were alone. "You've lost your damn mind, Mikhail."
I didn't look at him. "They broke into my home, Viktor."
"Yeah, and you broke your own men's faces."
"They deserve it."
He scoffed. "You think that fixes anything?"
I poured a drink instead of answering. The glass shook in my hand, and whiskey hit my throat like fire, but it didn't burn enough.
"They sent a message, Viktor. They sent a message," I said quietly. "They want me angry."
"You gave them exactly what they wanted,” he pointed out. “Use your head, brother. Care shouldn’t turn you into a pawn. Obsession will only make you weak.”
**********
The suite was quiet when I walked in. She sat on the floor beside the cracked mirror, her reflection split into a dozen pieces. The lights were low, and her hair still damp from the shower, her robe loose around her shoulders. She didn't look scared, but she looked tired.
I leaned against the doorframe. "You should be resting."
She didn't look up. "I can't rest when I live in a war zone."
My jaw tightened. "You're safe here."
She laughed, soft and bitter. "Safe? You call this safe? You beat your men half to death, and you think it makes you my savior?"
I took a slow step forward. "They failed you."
"They failed you," she shot back. "I didn't ask for your protection."
"Maybe you should have," I said.
She stood, meeting my gaze. "And what then? I'm just another thing you guard, another trophy in your glass case?"
"Don't start," I warned.
"Why not?" She snapped. "You control everything. You decide who breathes near me, who touches me, who looks at me. You lock me in this penthouse like I'm something you own."
My hands curled into fists. "I do it to keep you alive."
"You do it because you can't stand losing control."
I closed the distance between us. "You have no idea what I've lost."
She stared up at me, raised her chin, and her voice shook with fury. "You can kill anyone who looks at me wrong, Mikhail, but you can't kill the truth."
"Isabella–"
"My brother is still dead."
The words hit like a bullet. The air went cold, and I couldn't breathe for a moment. She was still glaring at me, but her eyes shimmered with grief, hate, and confusion.
