Page 120 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

Varlam stepped forward. Makar stepped forward too. Only a fist's distance remained between them.

"Stop," I raised my hand.

They didn't stop.

"The child will know who his father is." Varlam's voice was quiet but obviously dangerous. "And you'll learn what boundaries mean."

"You have no right to talk about boundaries."

"At least I didn't package betrayal as youthful mistakes."

"At least I didn't lock Briony by my side while loving another woman."

"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!"

I grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and hurled it. It hit Makar's shoulder first, then dropped at Varlam's feet. Both looked at me simultaneously. My lungs were about to burst. Rage shot from my stomach straight to my chest, burning until my fingers trembled.

"I'm not territory for you to fight over," I walked between them. "Not a prize that goes to whoever sends bigger flowers, spends more money, fills the schedule fuller."

Makar opened his mouth.

"Don't talk," I cut him off first.

I turned to Varlam.

"You said you'd change. But now you're using the baby to decide my choice again."

His gaze sank. "I'm not deciding for you."

"You're using the baby to win."

"He's my child to begin with."

"Yes, he is." I pressed my throbbing temple. "But first, he's a child—not your weapon to beat Makar with."

The coldness in Varlam's eyes slowly receded. I turned to Makar.

"And you. You say you can be his father, like if you say it loud enough, the past will disappear. I didn't agree to be with you, much less agree to let you replace anyone."

Makar's face went pale. I didn't want to hurt him. But I couldn't let their competition push me around anymore. I was young, but that didn't mean I didn't know what I wanted. I was confused, but that didn't give them the right to choose my direction.

"Listen clearly," I said, word by word. "If you keep this up, I won't choose either of you."

Neither moved.

"I'll take Rory and leave. Take the baby in my belly and live my own life."

Chapter Thirty

Briony

"No. I'm coming too."

Makar held the car door, his tone as firm as if we weren't going rafting but dividing up territory worth hundreds of millions.

I looked at him through the window. "Who told you?"

"Rory."