Page 52 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

"I can go with you right now to visit him." His gaze was indulgent.

I didn't have the sense to step aside. Instead, I stood in front of them, fists clenched.

"Varlam." My voice shook more than I'd expected. "What the hell is this? You two—"

"Get back to work." Varlam finally spared me a glance, but he didn't answer my question.

Those few words felt like ice water dumped over my head.

"But—"

"This isn't your business." He cut me off, voice cold.

The rest of my words stuck in my throat.

"Excuse us. We have more important things to handle." The woman looked at me with pity.

More important things? Meeting her father? And then maybe they'd discuss their future together? I stumbled aside in a daze.

The second I made room, Varlam walked toward the elevator with the woman. All I could do was watch their matched, intimate silhouettes.

"Do you remember that street where I lived abroad? Last month I got on the wrong bus there and ended up on the other side of the city." The woman's tone was light.

"You always took the wrong bus." Varlam laughed. "You loved experiencing the local culture but kept getting lost."

She laughed too.

"You actually remember!" Her voice rose in surprise. "I thought..."

They moved farther away. I couldn't hear anymore. Pain climbed up my ribs, inch by inch.

This didn't even count as betrayal. Betrayal required promises, and Varlam had never promised me anything. We'd never said the words. There was only the tenderness I'd assigned meaning to on my own.

This wasn't the first time I'd been weighed on someone's emotional scale. Makar and Chloe had already taught me—men could swap who they held overnight.

But this hurt worse. With Makar, I could hate him clearly. Varlam had just given me enough warmth that I'd chosen to fall in. This was my mistake. I couldn't even find someone to blame.

I should be grateful I'd seen this relationship for what it was in time. Go back to my desk, finish reviewing contracts, get today's work done, then go home and have dinner with Rory. My life was full of too many details to waste space on a man who could leave at any moment.

I told myself this, over and over. But my vision still blurred.

I didn't know who that woman was. But I knew one thing clearly—she'd come to take Varlam away.

Chapter Thirteen

Briony

"Why hasn't Varlam been coming around?"

Rory asked as I slid a plate of overcooked pasta in front of him.

He didn't know what had happened between us. He only remembered Varlam pulling him from the water, that expensive dinner that felt like home, and how the tall, serious man promised to take him to a boxing match next time.

"He's busy." I pushed the plate closer. "Adults have a lot of work."

"You're an adult." Rory stabbed at the mushy pasta with his fork. "But you come home almost every day and cook me weird stuff."

The kid always knew exactly where to twist the knife.