Page 75 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

"See?" My hesitation killed the last light in her eyes. "You don't even have an answer."

The air left my lungs. I could bring traitors to their knees, but I couldn't answer her question.

She used my distraction to push me away. I watched her hand drop to the door handle and press down without hesitation. The door opened. She walked out, resolute.

"You can't leave." The words came faster than my thoughts.

I hooked my arm around her waist from behind and dragged her back inside. The door shut behind her. I loosened my hold but didn't release her—just used the leverage to turn her around to face me.

Only when I confirmed she was still in my arms did my heartbeat settle slightly.

She didn't move again. Just looked at me with exhausted disappointment.

"Let me go." She said it like she'd already given up. "There's nothing between us."

My stomach clenched.

Stop. Don't say that again. Damn it, don't use that tone to tell me we're nothing.

Reason snapped.

I gripped the back of her neck and kissed her.

Chapter Twenty

Briony

Varlam's palm burned against the back of my neck, his grip firm, leaving no room for escape. That familiar cedar scent mixed with a hint of tobacco pressed down on me. I froze for half a second before snapping out of it and shoving at his chest with everything I had.

Of course, he didn't budge.

The man's chest was like a damn wall, his shoulders wide enough to block an entire door. I'd watched him pin a grown man against a wall. I'd been lifted off the ground by one of his hands. And here I was, thinking I could push him away with two hands.

I must've lost my mind to even try—no, the one who'd really lost it was him.

A minute ago, he was standing behind his desk, tearing into me. The next, he was kissing me like someone was about to snatch me away from him.

Wasn't this what he wanted? Me quitting? Me leaving the company, leaving his office, leaving that disgusting mess between him and that woman. They could get married, play out their whole lost-and-found love story, with no one left to be in the way. But he wouldn't let me go.

Varlam kissed harder, his mouth grinding against mine. I couldn't escape, so I bit down on his lower lip instead.

The taste of iron bloomed on my tongue. He finally pulled back half an inch. Blood seeped from his lip, but he didn't even flinch. He just stared at me with those steel-gray eyes, like he wasn't the one who'd been bitten.

I scrubbed the back of my hand across my mouth until my skin stung. This kiss didn't soften me. It only reminded me of how many times he'd decided things for me—my work, my staying, even when I should shut up—without ever asking.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I glared at him.

"You talk too much." His eyes were dark as hell.

"So you shut me up with your mouth?"

"Works."

Bastard. He always knew how to twist hurt and intimacy together. One second, he ground my dignity into the dirt. The next, one step closer and my body remembered heat it shouldn't. Like as long as I still reacted to him, everything he'd done could just be wiped clean.

No. Never.

Humiliation and rage surged to the top of my skull. My fingertips trembled. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. My palm burned, but that sharp crack let some of my fury out. Varlam's face turned to the side. I saw the red mark bloom across his cheekbone.