Page 56 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

"Apologize." He spoke coldly.

"What?" I thought I'd misheard.

"Apologize to her." He repeated it, tone even harder. "Then clean this up."

"You didn't even ask me what actually happened, you just..." I could barely breathe.

"Briony." His warning sounded like a final chance for an insubordinate employee.

I stared at his unfeeling eyes, hurt and rage blocking my chest. Why did he believe every ridiculous thing Brinny said? But when I tried to tell the truth, he looked at me like that—like he'd already judged me guilty. He'd never believed me. Not for a second.

"I won't apologize for something I didn't do." I swallowed the acid in my throat, forcing out each word.

"This is work hours."

"So what? Taking a paycheck means I have to accept false accusations?"

"It means you should take responsibility for your unprofessional behavior during office hours." He didn't touch me, but I felt his hand around my throat. "If you can't do the bare minimum, I'll find someone who can."

The world went quiet for a second.

He didn't say he'd fire me outright, but I understood. He knew I needed this job. He knew I couldn't just storm out—he knew damn well I had no choice but to stay.

I looked at his face and felt nothing but strangeness. He was used to giving orders, used to everyone obeying him. He'd used that dominance on me once, and I'd mistaken it for being special. All of it had been my own delusion.

I swallowed every emotion. They scraped down my throat, tasting like rust and blood.

"I'm sorry." The words ground out through my teeth.

"Look at her." Varlam's brow didn't soften an inch.

My last shred of dignity struggled in my chest. Then I gave in and turned to face that woman.

"I'm sorry, Miss Vasilieva."

"It's fine." She waved her hand, voice soft. "I know you didn't mean it."

But the corner of her mouth curled up in triumph. She'd won.

I set down the glass and pulled a cleaning cloth from the cabinet. When my knees hit the floor, I finally understood what I'd lost.

Chapter Fourteen

Varlam

I watched Briony drop to her knees and start mopping up the water. Her blonde hair slipped over her shoulder, blocking her view. She tucked it behind her ear without thinking.

She bit her lip, spine rigid. I could see the hurt she was burying under all that stubbornness. Unlike Brinny, whose vulnerability was the kind that made people want to protect her the moment they saw her.

I wouldn't doubt what Brinny said. She couldn't lie. At least, the Brinny I knew couldn't.

She'd been everyone's angel growing up. Family gatherings always reeked of liquor, cigars, and old men cutting deals. She was the only one who'd slip away from all those fake smiles and find me in the garden.

When I was fifteen, my father locked me in the basement for a whole night after I lost a sparring match to an older kid. I was still bleeding from the fight. Everyone said I deserved the lesson. Only Brinny crouched in front of me, blowing gently on my wounds over and over.

No one had ever treated me like that.

Later, as my father's demands got harsher, I learned to hide the pain, learned never to show weakness. But Brinny still showed up every time I got hurt. She didn't ask questions, didn't flinch, didn't treat me like a monster.