Page 27 of The Russian's Stalked Bride
“Do you have any idea what kind of position this puts us in?” Artem speaks up, thick arms crossed over his chest, littered with tattoos. Like usual, his brown eyes fix on me like his stare alone could strike me down if he felt like it.
He has always been huge, and surprisingly, he even gives Roman a run for his money.
Though I push my luck only because we’re family. “I have a pretty clear idea, yes.”
“Then explain it,” Roman snaps, visibly furious. “Because from what I can see, you made a stupid decision on your own and recklessly gave our enemies a reason to escalate.”
“What I did was remove their leverage,” I counter, not allowing myself to sway. “There’s a difference.”
Sergey scoffs. “By taking her?”
“By pulling her out of the equation. She’s the heart of a Grimaldi-Balakin alliance.”
Wyatt lifts a brow at me. “You sound sure of that now.”
“Because I am. They were arranging a marriage between her and Maksim Balakin, and if I never stepped in, their alliance would’ve come to fruition overnight.”
Roman blinks at me, slow and deliberate. “And instead of killing the groom, you took the bride.”
“Maybe I did, but at least I didn’t marry her myself,” I say pointedly, glancing between them. “Like all of you would’ve—or have—done. Don’t pretend it isn’t true.”
The ones who have done exactly that exchange brief looks, well aware that I have a point, but they won’t admit it.
Artem manages a sound that borders on a laugh, but it doesn’t fully form. “That’s not the argument you think it is.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not bound to her, since she’s leverage.”
“And how do you plan on using that leverage then?” Roman questions, head tilted just enough to make it clear he’s trying to pin me with this. “Because bringing her to a baby shower sure doesn’t accomplish that.”
I go to respond, but nothing leaves my lips. And that’s when I realize I’ve spent far too long thinking about the why, and not the how.
Silence hangs heavily between us, and the longer it stretches, the more apparent it becomes that I’ve got nothing.
Artem’s eyes narrow. “You don’t have a plan.”
“I have the beginning of one.”
“You don’t have shit,” Roman retorts. “You know damn well that isn’t enough.”
I clench my jaw, wishing I had all the answers just to get him off my back. But I don’t.
After a beat, Roman sighs. “Now what? You parade her around and hope her brothers panic themselves into submission?”
“They’re already panicking. They’re lying low again, and Maksim hasn’t made a move to help them. Without Mila, there is no alliance,” I remind him, riding on that fact alone.
He considers this, mulling it over before absently rubbing at the stubble on his jaw. “Pulling her out of it does disrupt things…I’ll give you that.”
“Then trust me. This will help us.”
“It helps, but only temporarily,” Artem says, always cutting to the chase. “She can’t stay with you.”
That almost forces the air from my lungs, but I force myself to keep steady and not give away how devastating that feels. “She’s already with me.”
“That’s the problem. You’re too close to this, and I can’t trust you to handle things with her in the middle of it,” Roman adds, insinuating far more with his gaze. “I know you.”
My brows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you think with your dick, Ivan,” Mikhail pipes up. “You always have.”
