Page 202 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
I walked out of Yaromir’s house alone, pregnant and unguarded, because Dmitri knew exactly which wound to press.
Dmitri watches my face and looks pleased with what he finds there. “Don’t look so betrayed,” he says. “You used to like when I was clever.”
“You were never clever,” I say. “You were just protected.”
His expression hardens. For a second, I see the real Dmitri beneath the charm. The spoiled son. The wounded boy. The man who can’t bear being made small.
Then he moves. Fast.
His hand closes around my arm, and before I can pull back, he drags me against him.
“Let go.”
“Do you know what you did to me?” he says.
His grip bites through my coat.
“I said let go.”
“You made me look like a fool.”
“You did that yourself.”
His face twists. Then his mouth comes down on mine.
It’s not a kiss. Not really.
It’s punishment.
His hand clamps at the back of my head, holding me in place as his mouth crushes against mine. I shove at his chest, panic flashing bright and violent inside me. The smell of his cologne turns my stomach. His body is familiar in the worst possible way, a memory I want scrubbed off my skin. I make a sound against him and twist hard.
At the edge of my vision, something flashes.
I freeze for half a second.
That’s all he needed.
Dmitri pulls back, breathing hard, satisfaction already returning to his face.
My mouth feels bruised, and my whole body shakes.
Not with weakness. With rage.
“My father isn’t here, he never was.” Bile rises up my throat. I should have trusted Yaromir when he said he was keeping an eye on him. I should have called him. “You planned this.”
He smiles. “Yaromir isn’t the only one who knows how to use a story.”
I slap him. The sound cracks through the warehouse. His head turns with the force of it.
For one beautiful second, he’s silent.
Then he looks back at me slowly. The smile is gone. His eyes are flat and furious. “You little bitch.”
I step back.
He takes one step forward.
I take another back.
