Page 87 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

"Don't come back," she said. "Not ever."

I didn't promise.

She read it anyway, exhaustion flashing through her eyes. "I don't need your explanations."

"But you are going to hear them."

"That is your choice. Not mine."

She turned and walked back into the yard.

❦ ❦ ❦

A week later, I finally got a way close to Elena.

At the auction, she stood in the center of the gallery. She wore a long black dress that bared the delicate line of her collarbones. Her hair was pinned up, a few curls falling by her cheek. She looked brighter than she ever had beside me. It made me proud—and jealous enough to want to tear out every pair of eyes on her.

The days after I left Yegor's villa, I kept trying to get Elena back.

I sent two hundred white roses. The flowers and card came back to my office untouched. I sent a full set of paints, canvas, brushes, and a new worktable. The next day it all came back, boxes still sealed.

Elena didn't react to any of it. She refused every request. So I bought the one doorway she couldn't slam shut in my face.

Right then she was explaining her brushwork to an older collector, her eyes bright.

Yegor walked past me in a gray suit, bidding paddle in hand.

The auctioneer struck the gavel. People took their seats.

Elena finally saw me. She paused. The smile left her mouth. Our eyes caught over the crowd, tangled hard, and heat rushed through my blood.

She looked away first.

It wasn't forgiveness. But it meant she still couldn't completely ignore me.

Her painting rolled up onto the platform. On the canvas, a window stood half open. The room inside was empty. Light outside cut through gray-blue curtains and left a golden slash across the floor.

The title read: Exit.

"Opening bid: twenty thousand."

Yegor lifted his paddle first. "Thirty."

I raised mine immediately. "One hundred."

The room went silent for a second.

"Two hundred."

"Five hundred."

Whispers spread from the back rows. Elena stood off to the side of the stage, already frowning.

Yegor raised his paddle again. "Six hundred."

"One million."

Applause broke out. Yegor didn't clap. He lowered his voice. "She doesn't want a date with you."