Page 250 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
No hesitation. No shame.
Larisa’s mouth twists. “She has ruined you.”
“No, she saved me,” I say. “And now it’s time for you to go.”
“Yaromir—” Her eyes flash.
“You’ll never come near my family again.”
She stands there, staring at me in disbelief before she comes to a decision and turns to leave. She reaches the door before I speak.
“Stop.”
She stills.
For a second, she doesn’t turn. Her hand remains on the handle, her back straight, her cane planted beside her like pride can hold up what’s left of her.
“You said leave the city,” she says. “I heard you.”
“No,” I say. “You heard the sentence. You haven’t yet understood it.”
She turns slowly. “You intend to make a spectacle of this?”
“I intend to make sure you don’t mistake exile for a suggestion.”
Her mouth tightens. “I am your aunt.”
“You were.”
For years, she has used blood like a shield. My mother’s sister. The woman who kept my mother’s memory alive when my father buried it under shame. The woman who told me stories, who fed my bitterness, who made hatred feel like inheritance.
I press the button under my desk. The door opens less than thirty seconds later.
Two of my men step inside.
I look at Andrei. “Her phones. Her accounts. Her men. Everything is locked before she leaves the grounds.”
Andrei nods. “Already started.”
Larisa’s face narrows. “Already?”
“Yes,” I say. “While you were talking.”
For the first time, real anger breaks through her composure. “You arrogant boy.”
“No,” I say. “Not anymore.”
Her grip tightens on the cane. “You think this proves something? That you can throw me out and become righteous because the little wife cried in your arms?”
I step toward her. Both men tense, but I lift one hand to stop them. “You wanted me to believe love was the thing that destroyed my mother. You were wrong. It was men like my father. Women like you. People who turn pain into permission.”
Her face pales, but her eyes stay hard.
“If you contact Dmitri, Kirill, Sergei, any man still loyal to my father, any woman inside my house, any doctor near my wife, you die.”
Her face turns still.
“If you try to return, you die. If you send flowers, letters, gifts, money, warnings, blessings, curses, or apologies, you die.”
