Page 68 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
“She’ll survive him.”
“I know.”
Larisa doesn’t smile. “She’s less stupid than she looks.”
I pause at that.
“She looks like a pretty little fool,” Larisa continues. “But she answers questions carefully. Not well enough to impress me, but carefully.”
She looks at me for a long moment.
Then she says, “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“You said that already.”
“No. I commented on not being invited. That’s not the same.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She steps closer. “Now tell me why you married her.”
I look toward the dining room. “She needed protection.”
“Many women need protection. You don’t marry all of them.”
“Her father owed a debt.”
“You collect debts every day.”
“She was engaged to Dmitri.”
Larisa’s face doesn’t change, but her eyes narrow slightly. “And you stole your half brother’s bride.”
“She was no longer his bride.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s accurate.”
“It’s convenient.”
I say nothing.
She studies me the way she used to when I was a boy with split knuckles and blood on my shirt, pretending I hadn’t been fighting men twice my size in alleys.
“She’s no one important in your world, Yaromir,” Larisa says. “Sergei Sokolov’s daughter. An underling’s daughter. Pretty, yes. Humiliated, yes. Angry enough to be useful, certainly. But not important.”
“She gives me Dmitri’s humiliation.”
“Does she?”
My jaw tightens.
Larisa notices.
“She ran from Dmitri first,” she says. “That humiliation already happened without you. The boy was left standing like a fool at his own wedding.”
“You think my intentions are weak,” I say.
