Page 47 of Mafia King's Bride

I run my fingers through my hair, tension building in my chest. I need to talk to Ana before this blows up in my face.

Standing abruptly, I grab my jacket. “I’ve got to head home. Tell Igor I had a good time.”

Bianchi gives me a nod. “I’ll make sure he gets home safe. Have a good night, Dmitri.”

I leave the club, ignoring the women who call out to me, their hands grazing my shoulders as I walk past. They mean nothing. My mind is elsewhere, back at home, with Anastasia.

The drive is a blur. All I can think about is what Lucia might have said to Ana. The sex we had might have been a mistake, but Ana deserves to hear the truth from me. I have to tell her that Lucia and I have been over for a long time, and there’s no place for her in my life now.

When I step into the house, it’s Yelena I find in the living room, casually eating bread with jam while watching TV. She turns to me with a teasing grin.

“About time you came home. I was starting to think you had another family.”

“Why are you still here?” I quip back. “You didn’t come home last night. Thought you’d moved out.”

She stands, popping the rest of the bread into her mouth. “I wanted to give you and Ana some space. I mean, you’re my brother and Ana’s becoming my best friend. Didn’t want to be the third wheel.”

I stay quiet, but she scurries over, rubbing her shoulder against mine with a mischievous smile. “Did something happen last night? Anything...interesting?”

I brush her off with a hand. “You’re nosy for someone who doesn’t want to be a third wheel. Where’s Ana?”

“Asleep.”

“Asleep?” I frown, glancing at the clock. “It’s only ten. She doesn’t sleep this early.”

Yelena steps in front of me, her face serious now. “How would you know that, huh? Something going on between you two?”

I ignore her, heading for the stairs, but she stops me, her tone shifting to something more somber.

“I know why you married her. I know it wasn’t for love.”

Her words freeze me in place.

“But Ana’s incredible,” Yelena continues. “She’s sweet, smart, and tough. She’d do anything for the people she cares about. Like when she stood up for me against Lucia. When I froze, Ana stepped in. Protected me.”

I grip Yelena’s shoulders, my mind racing. “What else did Lucia say?”

She hesitates, clicking her tongue before answering. “Lucia implied you chose Ana for business, but she’s the one who has your heart. She made it clear she thinks she will have you again.”

My jaw clenches. Lucia’s playing a dangerous game, and if she thinks I’ll let her meddle in my life, she’s gravely mistaken.

Ana doesn’t deserve this. And Lucia? She’s about to find out what happens when you push Dmitri Orlov too far. “Never,” I say strongly, shaking my head. “Lucia and I are a thing of the far past. I ended things way before Ana and I got married. I’d never betray Ana like that.”

Yelena’s words hit me harder than I expected. They linger in my head like an accusation I can’t shake off. She’s right—Ana’s been carrying the weight of her father’s guilt, my resentment, and the mess of a life she didn’t choose. I let my anger toward Nikolai Petrov blind me to the fact that his daughter wasn’t the one who betrayed me. Yet, I’ve punished her all the same.

“I need to check on Ana,” I say quietly, the weight of guilt tightening in my chest.

Yelena steps aside, offering a small nod. “Do what you need to do. I’m going to bed.”

As I make my way to Ana’s room, each step feels heavier, like I’m walking toward something I can’t undo. I push the door open carefully, not wanting to disturb her. The dim light from herbedside lamp casts a soft glow on her face, and for a moment, I just stand there, staring.

She’s breathtaking in her sleep. So peaceful, so vulnerable. The opposite of what I’ve always made her feel. She deserves more—more than I’ve given her, more than this cold, transactional life we’ve fallen into.

“Kotyonok,” I whisper, my fingers tracing the air just above her skin, close enough to feel her warmth but not touching her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this situation. I was angry—angry at your father, at the world, but I shouldn’t have let that fall on you. None of this is your fault.”

I lean down, my lips brushing the air near her cheek. “I should’ve been kinder,” I breathe, hoping somehow the words will reach her, even in her sleep. “I’ll deal with Lucia. I’ll fix this. I promise.”

I stay there for a while, watching her. It’s strange how the simple rise and fall of her chest can bring me a sense of calm I haven’t felt in years. She reaches out in her sleep, her hand brushing against mine, and my heart stumbles in my chest.

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