Page 46 of The Wrong Brother

“And the retail side?”

“Stable. Auditors saw exactly what they were supposed to see. And Andrei still doesn’t know you own the company.”

A pause. Then Stepan smiles, revealing the missing canine again. “Everyone loves fashion.”

Money laundering. It has to be that. He’s trying to prop Lord&Lion up in Colorado? Why? I thought we were just coming here for revenge, to do whatever Ruslan feels he needs to when it comes to his half-brother. But this sounds solid. Like he’s planning on staying.

I look away before either man notices I’m listening. Outside, the mountains are much closer now. Too close. The pilot’s voice crackles overhead, announcing our descent.

Immediately my stomach drops. Not because of turbulence, but because we’re here.

The city rises beneath us through scattered clouds, familiar roads appearing like scars across the landscape. Neighborhoods. Office buildings. Parks. Places I know. Places I wanted to belong.

My hands tighten around the armrests.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The pressure building in my chest feels ridiculous. I haven’t seen Andrei; nobody even knows I’m here. And yet every insecurity I’ve spent months trying to bury suddenly comes rushing back.

The breakup. The humiliation. The feeling that I wasn’t enough.

Not successful enough, not polished enough, not important enough. All echoes of my childhood are coming backnow,in adulthood, after I failed.

My throat tightens. Across from me, Ruslan goes still. Uh oh.

He’s noticed.

His eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. “You are pale.”

“I’m fine.” A lie. A terrible one. The jet banks gently left, revealing a wider view of Denver below.

Something sharp twists behind my ribs.

Home.

Not home.

A place I thought might become home once.

“Emma.”

The sound of my name pulls me away from the window. Ruslan has set his phone aside, fully aside, and all of his attention is fixed on me. Dangerous.

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re gripping the chair hard enough to break it.”

I immediately loosen my hands, feeling the ache in my knuckles. It’s embarrassing, falling apart just from seeing a city.

His expression softens slightly. It doesn’t make him look less harmless, not now that I’ve seen the mask slip. But it makes him look real.

“Look at me.”

I shouldn’t. I do anyway.

The restless energy that followed him throughout the flight seems to have settled. For the first time since we boarded, he looks completely certain of something.

“Everything will be fine.”