Page 115 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

His gaze sank but didn't avoid mine.

"I know."

"You always say you know."

"Then what should I say?"

He wasn't like Makar, who could throw his feelings and jealousy right in my face. He was used to burying his emotions in the deepest place, buried so long even he didn't know how to show them anymore.

And right now I had no answer for this relationship either.

Love and pain tangled together—I didn't know which to deal with first.

"I'm confused," I finally said. "I want to believe you, but I'm scared to take that step. Last time I gave myself to you, you decided for me what I should know, what I should believe, whether I should stay or go."

I looked at him.

"If you want me to accept you, let me see your effort. Not throwing money at problems, not using orders to keep me close. I need to see you change."

Varlam's gaze slid from my eyes to my lips, then slowly back.

"Change what?"

"Start by not making decisions for me."

"Okay."

He answered too fast—so fast I wondered if the anesthesia was affecting his judgment.

"I'm not done."

"You can keep going. I'll agree to everything."

He reached out, palm up, stopping near my knee. He didn't grab me. Just waited.

This was probably the first change he could make.

I placed my fingertips on his palm. Just barely. Varlam's fingers closed immediately but stopped before truly gripping. That moment of restraint burned hotter than any kiss.

"I'll let you see," he said, looking down at our hands, breathing heavier.

"Don't make me regret giving you a chance."

"I won't."

"Wait." Makar finally couldn't take it anymore.

He stepped away from the wall, pointing at himself. "What about me?"

I closed my eyes.

Varlam didn't let go of my fingertips. He just looked up at his brother calmly. "What about you?"

"Don't play dumb." Makar took two steps closer. "Why does she only give you a chance?"

"Because she wants to."

"She hasn't chosen you yet."