Page 111 of The Wrong Brother
Movement from the bedroom draws my attention. Striding toward it, I push through the doorway and stop.
Emma is finishing packing. Clothes cover half the bed. An open suitcase sits near her feet. She looks up immediately.
The moment she sees my expression, her own face tightens.
“What happened?”
I cross the room. “You aren’t going back to California.”
Her hands freeze. “What?”
“You are not going back.”
Confusion flashes across her face. Then concern.
“Rus.”
“Look.” I hold out my phone, and she takes it. Reads the article.
Goes pale.
She understands immediately; smart girl. Myl’vyonak.
When she finally lifts her head, genuine fear sits in her eyes.
“Oh, Andrei--?”
“He knows,” I confirm, taking the phone back. The words come out harder than I meant them to. “He has to.”
Emma lowers herself onto the edge of the bed. For the first time since discovering the pregnancy, she looks truly frightened. Not uncertain or overwhelmed, butscared.
I kneel in front of her, unable to stop myself.
“Emma.”
She looks at me.
“What if he comes after us?” The question is quiet, like she already knows the answer. I reach for her hands.
“They won’t touch you.”
“Rus—”
“Theywon’t.”
The certainty in my voice surprises even me. But I mean it, every word.
“I will move mountains before I let someone hurt you. Or the baby.”
Her eyes shine when she looks away, and I hate that. Hate seeing her fear and the fact that it’s there because of me.
This started as revenge. I could have let her go. Could have decided that she was nothing more than a one-night stand.
When did she becomeso muchmore?
I tighten my grip slightly, squeezing her hands to draw her attention back.
“You are safe.”
