Page 57 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

How could a girl like that lie about someone she'd barely met?

But from what I'd seen of Briony these past few days, she didn't seem like the type to throw water at someone on purpose either. She had a temper, a sharp mouth, wore every emotion on her face—but she wouldn't take her frustration out on someone she hardly knew.

The two judgments crashed together in my head. My temple throbbed.

Maybe the water was just an accident. Briony had a short fuse; Brinny was too sensitive. A gesture got misread, words got heated, and it all spiraled into this. That was the only explanation that made sense.

Brinny didn't lie. She just misunderstood Briony's intention. And Briony didn't mean to hurt anyone. She was just too stubborn to back down when she was angry.

Besides, Brinny's health had always been fragile. Her heart couldn't take much stress. When she was little, just running a few steps would drain the color from her face. Whatever happened today, calming her down mattered most.

"I'm done." Briony stood, her voice unnaturally flat. "Anything else, Mr. Petrov?"

That distant title made the irritation in my chest spike. A few days ago, she'd been wrapping her arms around my neck, gasping my name while I kissed her. Now she was shoving formality between us like a reminder—I was just her boss.

"If not, I'll go deliver these files." She picked up the stack from the desk.

When she brushed past me, that familiar scent made my body go tense. My fingers twitched. But Briony walked straight out.

The door clicked shut behind her. I started to go after her.

"Cold..." Brinny's voice stopped me.

She was shaking hard. Her face had gone even paler, her lips bloodless.

I lifted her and carried her to the office sofa. She was so light, arms looped around my neck, body practically weightless. I set her down carefully, then pressed my hand to her forehead. No fever, but she was ice-cold.

I pulled out my phone and told Gleb to bring up women's clothes. Brinny was thin enough to fit into almost anything.

"Get those wet clothes off and put this on." I draped my suit jacket over her. "Your body temperature's dropping too fast."

"You used to help me." She stared at my jacket without moving.

"You were a kid then." I handed her the blanket from beside the sofa. "Cover your legs first."

Once I was sure Brinny was stable, I moved to a respectable distance and turned my back.

Behind me, the sound of a zipper sliding down, slow and deliberate.

I kept my eyes on the floor-to-ceiling windows, but Briony's image—kneeling stubbornly on the floor—kept flashing through my mind. Had her eyes been wet? What was she doing right now? Then a soft body pressed against my back. My muscles locked. Brinny's arms circled my waist.

"I'm so cold, Varlam." Her breath grazed my neck. "Hold me. Warm me up. Please?"

I turned around and found her standing naked in front of me. She really was thin—flat chest, ribs faintly visible, slender legs pressed together. Sometimes I worried a strong wind would blow her away.

She arched toward me, fingers trailing down my chest to my abs. She wanted to go lower. I caught her wrist gently. She tilted her face up, blue eyes glazed with moisture, silently asking why I was refusing her.

"Don't you want me?" she asked.

I pulled her into my arms, palm covering her bare back. Her delicate skin trembled under my touch. Brinny was the softest part of my life. Even with her naked against me, all I saw was the girl who used to bandage my wounds in the garden.

Her body temperature was too low. All my focus went to her rapid breathing. I carried her back to the sofa and covered her with my jacket.

Brinny froze. She stared at me without blinking, expression like she'd witnessed something incomprehensible.

"There's no way I don't want you." I tightened the jacket around her.

She relaxed a little. Her thin frame looked even more fragile swallowed up in that oversized garment.