“Then scream when I pour this,” I muttered, uncapping the alcohol that Dimitri handed me. I took the first aid box from him as he went to fetch other things.
Timofey groaned dramatically. “You’re so heartless.”
Before I could respond, a soft voice drifted into the room, alerting all my senses at once. She was here. I had never planned to hide her away or not let Timofey see her, but I had not expected her to come looking for me. Especially at this hour, which she spent holed up in either her room or the library, simply reading.
“Avgust?”
I froze. So did Timofey. Having a woman in my safe house was a much bigger shock for him than for me. Everyone knew of my reputation for not fucking around or spending time with women for no reason, especially my siblings. I turned, and just as I had expected, Ilana stood in the doorway. She was wearing one of the soft sweaters I bought her, hair tied loosely, paint still smudged faintly on her fingers from earlier. She was clearly coming directly from her art room. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood all over me.
“Oh my god, what happened to you?!”
Timofey’s gaze snapped to her like a magnet, and that familiar cocky smirk spread across his face at once. Wounded or not, nothing stopped his bullshit of always trying to be irresistible in front of women. His handsome looks only aided him, and his natural charm made things even easier.
“Well, hello,” he drawled. “Didn’t know my brother was hiding a pretty little thing out here at the safe house. No wonderhe has been refusing to come home for the past few weeks. You his maid? Or—”
“Finish that sentence,” I warned, “and I will pour the alcohol directly into your throat.”
Timofey held up one hand defensively. “Avgust I am injured. Not blind. How do you expect to sit here and ignore a beautiful woman standing right in front of me?”
Ilana blinked at him, clearly unsure whether to step closer or run away. She hovered by the door, fingers twisting nervously.
“Is he… is he going to be okay?” she asked softly, ignoring everything Timofey had just said.
Timofey beamed. “I’ll feel much better if you come closer and perhaps sit beside—”
“Timofey,” I said his name like a warning, which was enough to make him stop and turn his attention towards me. I had never stopped Timofey from flirting with a girl in front of me or even cozying up to my dates. None of those women had mattered to me. But Ilana? Ilana was different.
“What?” Timofey asked, his eyes on me now, staring steadily.
“She is from the auction that took place a few weeks ago,” I said sharply.
Everyone in our world knew about the auction, even if their family condemned it. As far as I know, I was the first Chernykh to ever have attended one, and that too only because of the new Russian family. There was no way Timofey wouldn’t know about it. Silence dropped around us like a blade. I noticed how Ilana’s breath caught at my words, and Timofey’s smirkvanished instantly. He winced as he sat straighter, but sat down anyway.
“Oh,” he said quietly. His eyes flicked over her again, different this time. Calculating. Protective and clearly respectful. I could see he had made up his mind not to use his usual pickup lines on her. “Shit. I am so sorry, I had no idea. I wouldn’t have acted like such an ass right after you entered the room if I knew.”
Ilana shifted her weight, clearly a little uncomfortable and awkward. “It’s… fine. You weren’t exactly an ass.
“It’s not,” I said. “And Timofey knows better.”
He shot me an offended look. “How was I supposed to know? You didn’t tell me, or anyone else, that you brought someone home.”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I replied. “For a reason.”
Timofey looked between the two of us slowly, his gaze closely assessing. His eyes lingered over Ilana as he noticed her flushed cheeks before coming towards me in my too-controlled posture, the tension simmering beneath the surface. Despite the pain and his bleeding wound, a grin tugged at his mouth. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at how happy he looked over whatever conclusion he had come to.
“No way,” he said. “No fucking way. Did you—“
“Yes,” I cut in before he could finish. “I married her.”
Ilana stiffened as Timofey blinked, his eyebrows furrowing. I was pretty sure he had forgotten all about his injury from the way he was clearly more invested in my situation.
“You… what?”
“It was the only way to protect her, so I got a contract and marriage license, and we got married. Ilana is a Chernykhnow,” I said simply, in a matter-of-fact tone, even though there was nothing simple about the look Ilana gave. I could see the shock and disbelief on her face with something else hidden underneath. I was beginning to read her.
Timofey stared at me like I’d announced I was quitting the bratva and moving to Antarctica.
“You don’t even like people,” he said slowly. “Or women. Or weddings. Or paperwork. Or—”
