Page 35 of Paid for By the Bratva

“Dima, focus,” Sofia snaps. “I found out about Marv from the brief on the background check you had done on him. Why marry Lara over this? She’s a good actress, she’s playing you well, but this was unnecessary. Marv is inconsequential, a small-time player. You could’ve dealt with him without involving marriage. Besides, it wasn’t your responsibility to cover up for her indiscretions.”

"Sofia, it's not as simple as—"

"Cut the crap, Brother," she interrupts, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling me with a knowing stare. "I know you better than anyone. There's always an ulterior motive with you."

Her words sting, but I can't deny their truth. We've been each other's confidants for as long as I can remember, and she's seen me at my best and worst. But I refuse to let her undermine my intentions for Lara.

"Marv is dangerous, Sofia," I explain, my voice strained with frustration. "He's a small-time player, yes, but he's reckless and unpredictable. I couldn't leave Lara to such a fate. This goes beyond Lara. He could have come back to haunt us all."

"Is that really it, though?" Sofia challenges, her eyes narrowing. "Because I don’t believe for one second that Marv could be a problem for the Orlovs. There’s something else behind this, and I need to know what!”

"Enough!" I snap, slamming my fist on the desk. "I'm trying to protect her, damn it! Can't you see that?"

"Protect her? But why?" Sofia slams the desk herself.

My anger flares, but deep down, I can't help but question my true motives. Would I have done the same if it were someone else in Lara's position? Or am I just trying to convince myself that I'm acting out of selflessness?

“You don’t have an answer, do you?” Sofia says, at last, giving methatlook, which digs into my soul. “You don’t have an answer because you used this situation to claim her. You wanted her, Brother, from the very start, and instead of coming out with it, you toyed with her situation to benefit yourself.”

“Watch yourself, Sofia,” I bellow at her, my voice raised high.

“I’ll watch myself once you admit you claimed her. Marv was never a danger to her, or you, or anyone for that matter. He’s a fly on the wall, and you could have stopped him with one threat. You only married her to possess her for yourself, and she believes you did this because her blackmailer was dangerous! Or maybe she too has an ulterior motive, and you’re too blind by your obsession to see it!”

The air in the room feels thick with tension as Sofia's accusation hangs between us like a heavy cloud. My mind races, grappling with her words, knowing that there's a seed of truth buried within them. I had used the situation with Marv to my advantage to ensure that Lara remained within my grasp. But could it be true that she had known all along? That she saw through my carefully constructed facade of protection?

No. Impossible. Sofia’s only trying to rile up trouble. Before I can formulate a response, the soft sound of something dropping comes from outside. Sofia follows my gaze to the door,her expression unreadable. Dread coils in the pit of my stomach as I realize who must be standing on the other side at this hour.

"Lara," I call out, my voice more composed than I feel. I hear a soft gasp and footsteps hurrying away. I stare at the door, the tension coiling in my chest, tightening its grip around my heart with each passing second. I need to know what she's heard—if she's caught wind of our conversation, everything could come crashing down.

Sofia looks from the door toward me. “As I was saying…” she begins.

"Get out," I growl, pointing toward the door, my mind focused solely on Lara. "I don't need you questioning me right now. You’ve caused enough trouble with your meddling as it is."

Sofia holds my gaze for a moment longer before turning on her heel and storming out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

As I sink back into my chair, I can't help but replay our conversation in my head. Sofia's words echo in my mind, forcing me to confront the unsettling truth: perhaps my intentions aren't as pure as I'd like to believe. But one thing is certain—I'll do whatever it takes to protect Lara, even if it means protecting her from myself.

And for that, I first must speak with her.

***

I rush down the hallway to Lara’s room, pausing outside the door. I raise my hand and knock gently, trying to project an air of calm and control that I'm far from feeling.

"Who is it?" Lara's voice comes softly from behind the door, and I exhale in relief, grateful that she's still here.

"It's Dima," I reply, anxiety gnawing at the edges of my tone. "Can I come in?"

There’s no response. I press my ear to the door, listening for any sign that she's upset, any indication that our conversation has been overheard.

“Lara?” I ask again.

"Come in," she says reluctantly at last.

I push the door open and step inside, and there she stands—Lara, her dark eyes refusing to meet mine. Her hair is pulled back into a loose bun, a few tendrils framing her delicate face, and I can't help but take in the sight of her. But it's her expression that draws my attention; she looks like she doesn’t want me in the room.

"What is it?" she asks, her voice hesitant.

“You’ve never asked me that before,” I murmur. Usually, I’ve always been welcomed, and Lara’s never questioned my presence. In this moment, I know she overheard everything.

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