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Clara’s breath hitches and she squirms in her seat. “Demyen, what are we doing here?”
It’s not until we’re through the initial security gate and parked in the visitor’s lot that I let go of her hand. I don’t answer her questions or look at the sheer panic etched on her face until I walk around and open the passenger door.
My face is an impassive mask of determination when I do finally look at her. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Clara visibly trembles as she climbs out of the car. Her fingers practically white-knuckle the door, but I usher her away so I can slam it shut behind her. She jumps; her nerves are shot.
Good.
Still, this is a prison. And despite having more than enough loyal connections inside these walls thanks to my brother and my own rise to power, I need to make sure each and every one of these starving men know Clara Everett is off the menu.
That’s why I slip my arm around her waist and pull her close to my side. That’s why I nuzzle her silky, wild tresses and breathe her in as we walk inside the main building.
“You lied on the stand,” I murmur into her ear. “And you choose silence instead of doing the right thing and recanting.”
Clara’s eyes fly to mine.
“Let’s see what you’ve bought with that pretty mouth of yours.”
50
DEMYEN
“Please, Demyen!”
I ignore her whimpered pleas and practically drag her through the security check. Her fear irritates me—it was so easy for her to make up shit on the stand, but now, it’s impossible for her to literally face the consequences?
It wasn’t her fault, asshole. It wasn’t her?—
Clara is near tears by the time she shuffles through the metal detector. Her eyes silently beg me to take her away from here, but I’m in no mood for that bullshit.
“I’ll do anything you want.” Her trembling lips pucker. “Anything, I swear. We can leave right now and I’ll do anything.”
Fuck. I need her to make this kind of offer when I’mnotdragging her into an ironclad hell.
“WhatIwant?” I force a smile. It’s for the benefit of the security guards watching us, not her. “What I want is for you to accept some fucking responsibility for your actions. What Iwantis formy one and only brother to be free from the life sentenceyougave him.”
This shuts her up. It doesn’t stop her from shaking like a leaf, though, so I’m forced to hold her closer and usher her into the Visiting Room like I’m some doting boyfriend supporting his heartbroken lover through a difficult visitation.
Oh, thiswillbe difficult. I have no doubt about that.
I put a solid foot of space between us once we sit down at the table. I don’t want or need Tolya to get any wrong ideas, especially when they involve Clara Everett.
Only a minute or so passes before my brother is led into the room, flanked by two guards who walk with him to the table and don’t leave until he sits down. The table-bench combo sags a bit under his weight. He looks stronger, denser.
But the look in his eyes is what makes me shiver.
“Well,” Tolya drawls as he looks between me and Clara. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” His gaze lingers on her face a little longer than I’d allow any other man, but I let this one slide. He’s my brother, and hers is one face he deserves to carve into memory.
“Privet, brat.” I greet my brother with what little Russian I can stomach tasting on my tongue. Not because I have anything against the language or my heritage, but because?—
“You sound more and more like Otets.” Tolya smirks. “Won’t he be proud?”
“No more than you.” I give him a scowl he knows is not as serious as it may look. This is our banter; insulting each other by comparing how close to our monstrous father we might actuallycome to emulating. “Keep that shadow growing and you might beat him on the beard.”
