Page 136 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
Dmitri’s eyes flash. “You broke my nose.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Enough,” Kirill says.
A few people near the doors slow down, sensing danger without wanting to be obvious about it. Viktor appears near the edge of my vision. Two of Yaromir’s men are farther back. I hadn’t noticed them before. Now I do.
Kirill’s gaze returns to Yaromir. “You have made your little display.”
“My marriage?”
“Your rebellion.”
Yaromir’s face remains calm. “If you’re only now noticing, you are slower than I thought.”
Dmitri takes a step forward. “You think humiliating me makes you stronger?”
Yaromir finally looks at him. “No,” he says. “You did most of that yourself.”
Dmitri’s face reddens, and I feel a flutter of satisfaction in my belly.
Then Kirill looks at me. Not like a father-in-law, or even an elder. Not even like a man looking at his son’s wife. He looks at me like he’s looking at something misplaced.
“You should understand something, Anya,” he says. “Men like my son do not make women powerful. They make women visible. There’s a difference.”
My fingers tighten around my clutch.
Yaromir’s hand stills against my back. A warning.
Not to me. To him.
I lift my chin. “I’m learning the difference.”
Kirill’s eyes narrow slightly.
Yaromir’s voice is quiet. “Don’t talk to her.”
Kirill smiles faintly. “You sound attached.”
“That should worry you.”
For the first time, I see anger break through Kirill’s control.
Only a crack. But it’s there.
“You are taking men who swore loyalty to me,” Kirill says. “You are interfering with port contracts. You are buying debts that were not yours to collect. And now you parade this girl through my circles wearing jewels meant to insult my house.”
“We already had this conversation,” Yaromir replies. “Must we repeat ourselves?”
“My house gave you your name.”
“My mother gave me my name.”
Dmitri looks away for half a second, as if the mention of Yaromir’s mother is something dirty.
Kirill steps closer. Not enough to touch him. Enough that the lobby seems to shrink around them. “You are forgetting your place.”
Yaromir laughs once, very softly. There’s no humor in it. “I took my place.”
