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“Thank you,” Briana said stiffly. “It seems a little much for dinner, but Soph said the dress code at this restaurant is evening formal.”
I grunted, sliding another glance to my sister. Something wasn’t right.
“You clean up nice.” Briana forced the compliment out.
“Thank you,” I breathed. “Do you think my fiancée will approve?”
Briana froze. The knot in my gut tightened, and I glared at my sister.
“Eyes on the road, kozjól,” Sophia quipped.
“Did younottell her this was my engagement party?” I seethed in Russian.
Sophia shrugged. “It might have slipped my mind to mention that teeny, tiny detail.”
“Anya is going to be at the dinner?” Briana’s voice could have frozen hell.
And here I’d been wondering why Bri had agreed to come in the first place. Not wanting to talk about the arrangement in her presence—hell, not being able to talk to her much at all over the last few days—the topic hadn’t come up. Now I knew why.
“The bride-to-be is generally a key part of such a function, yes,” I snapped. Taking a deep breath, I added, “What my devil of a sister has failed to mention is that tonight is my engagement party.”
“Turn around!” Briana demanded, fisting her hands in her lap.
“No can do, we’re already late,” Sophia said.
“Sophia, I swear to heaven that I won’t forgive you for this.” Briana whirled around in her seat. The emotion cutting through her voice was a physical blow. I ached for her.
“I can take you back,” I said evenly.
“Viktor!” Sophia protested.
“Enough,” I barked. “I’ve had enough of your meddling, Soph. Can’t you see what you’re doing? You’re hurting your brother by rubbing salt in the damn wound, and you’re destroying your best friend!”
The silence that fell in the wake of my outburst had everyone holding their breath. I pulled the car to the edge, intending to whip it around. A light weight fell on the sleeve of my tuxedo, and I swore electricity zapped through me at Briana’s touch.
“If we’re already running late, you don’t have to go back. I can...be a wallflower.”
Oh, Briana.She wasn’t made to be a decorative object on the outskirts of a room; she was the star, the center of everything.
I cleared my throat. “Are you sure?”
Briana nodded. “There’ll be red wine, right?”
“A bottomless glass when you get home, but I might suggest keeping your wits about you in this crowd,” I said, hoping the teasing tone would lighten her spirits.
A sad smile flickered over her face, signaling her acceptance. I pulled back onto the road and sped off.
