Page 110 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
Some are not smart enough to.
Anya walks at my side, her expression calm enough to be mistaken for indifference. But I can feel the tension in her body. I keep my hand at her waist now, thumb resting against her hip.
We’re halfway across the room when I hear my name.
“Yaromir.”
The voice is familiar.
The crowd in front of us parts slightly, and my father steps into view.
Kirill Volkov looks older than the last time I saw him, but age has not made him softer. His hair is white at the temples now, his face lined, his suit immaculate. He still carries himself like every room belongs to him until someone stronger proves otherwise.
Dmitri’s mother stands several feet behind him, speaking to another woman, but her eyes are on us.
Dmitri is nowhere in sight. For now.
My father’s gaze moves to Anya first. Slowly. Insultingly.
Then to my hand at her waist.
Then to me.
“So it’s true,” he says.
I don’t move. “You sound disappointed.”
“I’m rarely disappointed by you anymore. I have learned to expect theatrics.”
Anya goes still beside me. I feel it through my hand.
My father notices her reaction and smiles faintly. “Anya Sokolova,” he says. “Or should I say Volkova now?”
I answer before she can. “You should say nothing to my wife unless she invites it.”
His eyes return to me. “You always did enjoy claiming things that were not offered to you.”
My hand tightens at Anya’s waist.
Not enough to hurt her. Enough that she feels it.
She glances at me, but I keep my eyes on him.
“She was not offered to me,” I say. “She chose.”
My father laughs softly. “Did she?”
Anya shifts. Before I can stop her, she speaks. “I did.”
The room around us seems to still.
My father looks at her, really looks at her now.
Anya’s face is calm, but I can feel the fight in her. The same fight from the study. The same fight from the stable. She’s afraid, yes, but she does not bow her head. Something like approval moves through me. I keep it off my face.
My father’s smile fades by a fraction. “Then I hope you understand what you chose.”
Anya’s voice stays steady. “Better than I understood Dmitri.”
