Page 89 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

"That wasn't in the release."

"The addendum was added after the event was confirmed. Your assistant should have emailed you."

"She didn't."

I kept my voice light, soft. My lungs still felt like they were packed with burning smoke.

I was sick of people deciding for me. My father had decided my marriage. Isabella had decided I should vanish. Kiryan had decided when I counted as his wife, and when I went back to being a substitute.

"I refuse." I closed the contract.

The curator's face changed. "The gavel already fell. If you cancel the dinner, you owe a penalty tied to the sale price."

He flipped to another page and jabbed at the line.

The number made my stomach twist hard.

I could take care of myself. I couldn't pay that.

"This is a trap."

"This is the rule. Dinner is only two hours. Then a photo. No boundary-crossing."

They'd set up a date with Kiryan behind my back, then promised me he wouldn't cross a line.

How thoughtful.

"She isn't going."

Yegor came up behind me. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, shoulders tight, the usual lazy look gone from his eyes.

Kiryan cut through the crowd toward us. Dark suit fitted over that broad back, face calm.

I knew that kind of calm. The kind a man wore right before he pulled a trigger.

He looked at my face, then at Yegor. The faint scar along his jaw shifted.

"Whether she goes or not is her choice," he said.

"Pretty words," Yegor sneered. "If you want it to be her choice, why did you run the price up to something she can't afford to walk away from?"

"Because I want the painting."

"You want her."

Kiryan didn't deny it.

Heat ran up my spine.

Goddamn it.

I hated that my body still remembered his hands on my waist, remembered how his breath had wrecked my heartbeat. A body didn't store consequences. It stored touch.

"That's enough," I said. "I'll handle it."

Yegor stepped in closer. "Even if we still do business, I have to say it. Isabella is pregnant with your kid, and you and Elena are already divorced. You let Isabella hurt her to hell and back, and now you come crawling in for forgiveness? What is that supposed to be?"

Collectors who'd been leaving turned to look. Staff clustered near the display, afraid to come closer.