Page 83 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

"Be yourself." His tone was calm, like he was stating the simplest thing in the world. "You don't need to make small talk with anyone or please anyone. Eat what you want, go where you want. Enjoy the party."

I nodded, half-understanding.

This sounded like a date. At least, what I understood a date to be. Especially since he'd personally picked out the swimsuit and necklace.

At the last party, he'd told everyone in front of them that I was his woman. This time, he hadn't given me a clear identity, but told me I didn't need to please anyone.

I wasn't here to get hurt today.

And honestly, the yacht in front of me didn't leave much room for overthinking.

It was too big to be a boat. The snow-white hull rose in several levels, gleaming in the sunlight like a dreamlike floating building. Uniformed servers glided past with champagne, music flowing from invisible speakers. Everything here cost money—even the air seemed more expensive than on the other side of the dock.

First time I'd learned that rich people's parties didn't need any clear purpose. They drank, sunbathed, exchanged a few glances, and decided on deals regular people wouldn't encounter in several lifetimes. And I didn't even know where to put my hands.

The crystal pressed against my skin. I touched the pendant, pushing down that unease again. Varlam gave this to me. I didn't crash this party.

"Follow me," he said.

I walked in his footsteps. The central staircase led to the upper flybridge. Several older men sat there, and the man in the wheelchair at the center somehow towered over everyone around him in presence. Similar to the aura Varlam carried.

They weren't speaking loudly, but no one dared approach them. As if everyone knew—say the wrong thing and pay the price. I instinctively slowed my steps.

Varlam glanced up toward the top level. The man in the wheelchair saw him too, raised his hand in a light greeting.

Varlam nodded back. Then he let go of my hand. My palm suddenly empty. Before I could ask where he was going, I saw the woman already standing on the stairs. Brinny.

She wore a white bikini, flaxen-gold hair pulled into a sleek high ponytail. Already slender, her exposed skin gleamed almost white in the sunlight. The boat was clearly rocking, but she stood as steady as if on her own floor.

This was her familiar territory. She didn't even need to watch her step.

"You're finally here!" Brinny looked at Varlam.

Varlam walked straight toward her. She naturally hooked her arm through his, leaning into him, laughing as she said something. When Varlam heard it, his expression softened. He replied to her.

The two walked side by side up to the flybridge. I stood there, like someone had dumped ice water over my head.

I thought I was his date. I thought it was just the two of us, no Brinny. I'd even practiced—if someone asked about our relationship, how I'd answer without seeming too eager. But now I finally knew. I didn't need to answer. No one would ask.

His date was already waiting for him on the stairs, and I was just the assistant he brought along to see how the other half lived.

Someone at the swim platform at the stern suddenly waved at me. Several young women sat there. They all had impossibly beautiful long legs, eyes bright as glass beads in the sunlight. One of them patted the chair next to her, saying something in Russian.

I didn't understand a word. But her smile was friendly enough. I walked over and sat down. Another woman pointed at the water, seeming to ask if I wanted to swim. I shook my head. I couldn't swim at all.

"Miss, champagne?" A server held out a tray.

"No, thank you." My voice came out tight. "Non-alcoholic."

Any sharp smell lately made me nauseous.

He immediately swapped it for a pale green drink and handed it to me.

The women laughed and talked. Whenever someone looked at me, I could only nod. They laughed, I laughed along. They exclaimed, I pretended to understand. Less than five minutes in, my facial muscles started to ache.

I was like a kid who'd wandered into an adult party, wearing clothes someone else picked out, holding a drink I couldn't name, trying hard to pretend I belonged.

When I looked up again, Varlam had already taken a seat among those older men. Brinny nestled against him.