Page 89

“What the hell—” Zasha barked. “What the actual fuck did I just walk in on? How long has this—this—been happening?”

“Zash? What’s with the yelling?” Yelena’s voice floated in from the hall, alarmed.

Zasha stepped aside to allow Yelena to enter the room and flung a hand toward us, horrified. “I just walked in on them kissing!”

Yelena blinked at us. Then she blinked again, and instead of horror, disgust, or confusion, her whole damn face lit up like the Christmas tree downstairs.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” She pointed between us with manic glee. “This is amazing!”

Her excitement was so bright and ridiculous that I almost laughed. Technically, they were the first people who knew about my sexuality, and until Yelena’s reaction, I didn’t realize how much her opinion meant to me.

“So is it serious?” she asked.

“It can’t be!” Zasha yelled.

“Not really—” Yuriy said, which earned him a glare from me.

“Yes,” I said firmly.

Yelena giggled. “This is awesome! Zasha, your brother and my father are in love.”

Love? Who mentioned anything about love?

Zasha whipped around, face blotchy red. “Awesome? How is this awesome? This—this is a disaster. You heard them. Only one of them thinks it’s serious.”

Yelena’s smile faltered. “Zasha, you’re overreacting. It’s not like they’re blood family.”

“It doesn’t matter. Stanislav is your father.” He jabbed a shaking finger at Yuriy. “And you had to ruin it like you do everything by sleeping with him. He’s the one man who should be off-limits for you to fuck, Yuriy. What the fuck is wrong with you? This is exactly why I never wanted to invite you for Christmas, but Yel made me.”

Yuriy went still beside me, not angry, nor defensive. Just… still.

“In fact,” Zasha said, voice rising. “It’s not enough he’s screwing your father, but he’s screwing up our holiday by getting us involved with some bad people in the city. I don’t know the details, but I bet my life on it that something he did caused this whole mess. It’s no wonder the men in our family are deserting you because all you do is fuck up.”

Yuriy flinched beside me, barely a twitch, but it was agony watching it. Zasha didn’t notice. He was too lost in his own panic to see what he was doing to his brother, but I never took my eyes off Yuriy.

“He ruins everything he touches. He always has.”

Yuriy’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t look at me or at Zasha. His eyes stayed somewhere on the floor—dark, shuttered—like someone had just cracked his chest cavity open and punched straight through his heart.

“Don’t worry.” His voice came out low and even. “Since I was never truly wanted here, I’ll go.”

“Yuriy—” I reached out for him, but he avoided my touch, heading for the bathroom door that connected to his room. He didn’t move fast. Didn’t even show any sign of anger. He just left. Heartbroken in a way that made my chest split open.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Yelena rounded on Zasha instantly, eyes blazing. “Are you out of your mind?”

“He—Yel, he⁠—”

“No.” She pointed at him like she was scolding a toddler. “What you just did? Out of line. Cruel. Unnecessary. My father’s a sensible man, and if he chose Yuriy, that’s good enough for me. You need to fix this.”

Zasha’s face crumpled into a defensive scowl. “I didn’t—he⁠—”

She didn’t let him finish. She brushed past both of us and left the room, her disappointment heavy enough to choke on.

Leaving me alone with Zasha.

The last thread of my patience snapped. I turned to him slowly, and he froze. “You done?” I asked.