Page 1 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

Chapter One

Briony

My boyfriend and my best friend were exchanging rings. No—my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.

They declared their love, said they were crazy about each other, then kissed like something out of a movie. A massive bouquet slammed into my head.

"Oh—Briony! I just knew this good luck would find you." Chloe's voice drifted down from the ceremony platform, dripping with fake sweetness.

I stood among the bridesmaids and staff, forcing a smile. That bitch.

If I hadn't been forced to plan this wedding, I wouldn't have wanted to see her for one more second.

Now I finally understood why she'd spent so much time telling me Makar was no good, pushing me to break up with him. She wasn't looking out for me—she wanted him for herself. I still couldn't believe I'd come home early from work one night and walked in on these two assholes screwing in my bed.

I told Makar we were done, then stormed out—only to get a mocking text from Chloe the next day.

"I want you to design mine and Makar's wedding. To: my best friend Briony."

Absolutely fucking terrible. Literally.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present for the first time—" The wedding was winding down. The officiant finally turned to face the guests.

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. This circus was finally going to be over. But "Mr. and Mrs. Petrov" never left the officiant's mouth.

"Darling Briony, could you come up to the stage?" I looked up. Chloe had already grabbed the microphone from the officiant. "I'm sure you want to say something about this wedding."

My temples throbbed. She'd just derailed the entire ceremony like it was a game of house.

"No, I... don't have anything to say." I waved my hand in refusal.

Nothing to say? Actually, I had plenty to say.

I should march right up there and tear into them. Tell every guest how this bride spent her time mooching my makeup while going after my boyfriend. And how this groom was a complete worm—I'd put up with all his bullshit, and he'd hooked up with my best friend.

Even though the betrayal was behind me, I still couldn't help the rage. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to calm myself.

I couldn't do this. I was a wedding planner, and this was the first wedding I'd planned independently. This determined whether I could keep working at the company, keep earning money, pay off the massive medical debt my dead parents left behind, and raise the little boy they'd left behind—my eight-year-old brother.

I couldn't screw this up.

"Briony, it's okay. Makar and I both know you're just too shy, and a little insecure. After all, you've never had many friends or much of a social life." She flashed me what looked like a very gentle smile. "Come on, no one's going to laugh at you."

The officiant rubbed his nose and awkwardly stepped aside. I knew if I didn't go up there, she'd never stop.

"Fine." I walked through the private estate covered in pristine flowers toward the stage.

The entire venue was draped in white roses, satin and tulle interwoven, crystal chandelier light casting a delicate shimmer across the fabrics—it looked like diamonds scattered everywhere. Chloe and Makar stood side by side at the center of the ceremony platform. What a waste of my carefully designed setup. Their spot should've been filled by a couple who actually deserved happiness.

I'd barely positioned myself on stage when Chloe looped her arm through mine and addressed the guests. "Briony is my most important, closest friend. Without her, Makar and I never could have fallen in love."

Let me translate—she meant if I hadn't trusted her enough, how could she have had the chance to steal my man?

"Sweetheart, even though you're very plain-looking and so overweight... like a little heifer. I don't care. You're still my best friend." She looked at me with a pitying expression that made me sick. "Thank you for planning mine and Makar's wedding. It's perfect."

I almost shoved the microphone down her throat. The way people below struggled to keep their mouths from twitching made my stomach do a nasty flip.

Makar stood with his hands in his pockets, coldly watching it all.