Page 39 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

She grabbed Rory's shoulder and pulled him into the bedroom. Shut the door fast, like she was escaping something. I changed into Makar's T-shirt and shorts. Too small. The fabric stretched tight over my body.

I could hear Briony gently coaxing Rory to change clothes. Her tone was soft and patient—nothing like how she'd just spoken to me.

I'd settle the score with Rory's biological father eventually. But Makar was just as bad. He'd seen her holding this place together alone, taking care of a kid, keeping everything neat. Then he chose to abandon her and make her everyone's joke. And she still had his clothes in her apartment.

I tugged at the fabric straining across my chest. I should've punched that bastard at the wedding. An apology was too easy.

When the door opened again, Rory wore dry clothes. Briony followed, her gaze landing on me. She stopped.

"Hope we didn't keep you waiting." She walked to the cabinet, like she needed something to do. "Stay for dinner. You pulled Rory out of the water. You must be hungry."

Rory immediately came over and lowered his voice. "Trust me, if you don't want food poisoning, stop her."

I looked at Briony, already holding a spatula. "How bad?"

"She can turn pasta into paste. Last time the smoke alarm went off for ten minutes. The neighbors thought the building was on fire." Rory looked dead serious. "So I usually suggest ordering in before she gets near the kitchen. Risk management."

"Hey." Before I could respond, Briony spoke from behind us.

Rory's shoulders hunched, but he didn't turn around. "We're exchanging survival tips."

"You're talking shit about me." She put her hands on her hips. "I heard everything."

"I wasn't talking shit." Rory turned, face innocent. "I was stating facts."

Briony rushed over and messed up his hair. Rory yelled for her to stop while insisting he wasn't lying. I watched them bicker and felt something I'd never felt before—peace. Calm. They didn't have a nice house or new furniture. But when they were together, this cramped living room was alive.

When I came back to myself, I was smiling.

"I've got a restaurant nearby," I offered. "Let's go there."

Rory's eyes lit up. Briony glared at him.

"You saved Rory. I can't make you buy us dinner too."

"I don't want my assistant wasting time in the kitchen." Before she could argue, I added, "Let's go."

Briony finally put down the spatula.

We went to a nearby Russian restaurant owned by Petrov Group. The manager recognized me and immediately moved to clear the place. One look from me stopped him.

Rory held the menu, checking prices first, then the dishes.

"Order whatever you want," I said.

"I need to assess carefully." He turned a page. "Wasting food is a sign of incompetence."

Briony tapped his menu. "Say thank you first."

"Thank you." Rory looked at me, then added, "Also, Makar's clothes don't fit you. Your muscles are about to rip through them."

Briony almost choked on her water. I glanced at my outfit. First time I'd ever gone to dinner dressed like this.

"You think so too?" I turned to Briony.

"I think Rory's talking too much today." She grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth, but the heat on her face gave her away.

Rory looked between us, then went back to studying the menu, corner of his mouth lifting.