Page 5 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

The overhead light flared on, harsh white flooding the room.

And I saw her.

Flushed cheeks dusted with faint freckles. Damp strands of hair stuck to the side of her face. Big hazel eyes shining with wet, terrified light. She wasn't striking, not the way Isabella was, but I recognized her instantly.

I didn't know what the hell had gone wrong, or why Elena had ended up in my room.

She wrapped her arms over her chest like it meant anything, like she could hide what I'd just had in my hands. She wouldn't look at me. Like she was the victim here.

I pulled out of her immediately. Cold air hit, leaving an empty ache that made my body want to shove right back into that warmth. But I forced it down. Hard.

The woman who'd just fucked me, who'd just come on my cock, was my fiancée's sister. If she'd climbed into bed with her future brother-in-law, she'd better have had a damn good explanation.

"Elena, why the fuck are you in my room?" I snapped, clamping a hand on her shoulder.

Her lips were still swollen and red from the orgasm, but fear had swallowed her eyes whole.

"I went into the wrong room. I thought it was mine." Her voice came out so quiet I barely caught it. "You thought I was Isabella."

"You knew I had the wrong person. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried." She finally lifted her eyes. "At the start, I did."

I was about to call bullshit when a memory cut through the alcohol haze and stabbed straight into my head.

No. I hadn't—

She had tried. Her hands had been on my chest, pushing at me, trying to explain. And I'd shut her up with my mouth.

It didn't cool my anger. Not even a little.

"Fine." I nodded once, slow. "You said it at the beginning. Then what?"

Her lashes shook.

"After that, when I kissed you, why didn't you keep explaining? When I took your clothes off, why didn't you stop me? When I pushed inside you, why didn't you tell me to get the hell off?"

Isabella had said Elena looked at me weird sometimes. I'd brushed it off—young, awkward, didn't know how to act around her sister's fiancé. Looking back, all that blushing, the way she dodged my eyes, the silence... it had a different meaning now.

The color drained from her face. Her mouth moved, but no sound came.

"Answer me."

"I'm sorry."

It felt like punching a pillow.

"What are you sorry for?" I snarled, staring her down. "For walking into the wrong room? Or for trying to play games and seduce your sister's fiancé?"

"It's not like that." She shook her head, desperate. Her mouth opened, closed. "I just..."

I laughed under my breath. She was the ignored daughter in the Rossi family. And I could give her status, money, a last name nobody dared disrespect. If she pushed her sister aside, overnight she went from the second daughter nobody noticed to the lady of the Morozov house.

She wanted resources and respect through me? Wrong fucking man.

"Listen to me, Elena." I dug my fingers into her shoulder until she winced. "You're going to keep this rotting in your stomach. If you don't, I don't mind stuffing that secret into your chest and putting you in the ground."

I wasn't letting anyone ruin this wedding. Not just because of Isabella.