Page 79 of Ruthless Lullaby

A tense silence falls over the crowd. Some exchange uneasy glances and some take a step back, creating an empty space around Maurice and me. In the corner, Pavel's eyes narrow in assessment. The once lively atmosphere has become suffocating. I grimace, trying to keep my composure in front of my guests.

When Maurice sees me, he stumbles his way over to me, his eyes glazed. "Maron, my man!" he exclaims, his voice too loud and his breath reeking of whiskey. "Happy fucking birthday, bro!" He scans the guests. "Is everyone having a good time at my brother's party?" he asks.

"Maurice," I bark. My voice comes out cold and measured. "I don't remember sending you an invitation."

He just laughs, like he heard a bad joke. It is a harsh, grating sound that sets my teeth on edge. "What do you mean, bro?" he’s slurring, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "I would never miss your big day. What kind of brother would I be if I did that?"

I shrug off his arm, my patience wearing thin. "The kind who knows when he's not welcome."

Maurice just grins, seemingly unfazed by my tone. "Aww, don't be like that, Maron," he says, his words come out accompanied by a disgusting burp. For a moment I think he’s going to throw up. "I’ve only come to celebrate with you. Why is that so wrong?"

There’s still an uncomfortable silence in the room. Only a few people exchange words in the back, probably talking about the unfolding drama. I don’t know if I should feel embarrassed or angry as everyone stares at my drunken half-brother. What I do know is that the dining hall is full of my business associatesand prominent people from the Bratva. And I cannot let this fuck up my reputation.

So, I remain calm and turn to Maurice, placing a hand on his arm. "Let's step outside and talk for a moment."

But Maurice isn't having it. He yanks his arm out of my hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Maron," he barks. He looks around the room, his eyes landing on Timofey. "So, you invited Timofey but not me? You having a good time, Timo?"

Timofey shifts uncomfortably, his face contorting with what I recognize as disdain. He probably wants to slap Maurice as much as I do, but he’s trying to act civilized. "Maurice, go and clear your head," he says quietly, trying to diffuse the situation. "You're obviously drunk."

Maurice's eyes narrow and a bitter laugh escapes his lips. "Drunk? Yeah, I had a few alright," he spits out. "You wanna know why? Cause I just visited your mother."

"How does visiting her make you drunk?" I inject.

Maurice shuts his eyes and lets all of his alcohol-induced feelings rise to the surface when he speaks, "She’s… Fuck, Maron, I can’t bear the state she's in. She gets on your nerves, man! She asked about Cordelia at least fifty times while I was with her." He turns back to Timofey. "And you, Timo? Why aren't you with her? Maron said you're her main carer."

There is some motion in the room now. People either had enough of the drama or they’re preparing to leave. I take the opportunity to step forward, grabbing Maurice by the arm. “Alright, that’s enough, Maurice. You need to leave while I’m asking you nicely.”

But he’s still not having it. He pushes himself away from me, his eyes wild and unfocused. "Fuck you, Maron. Stop touching me, man. Why you… why do you wanna…" Suddenly, his body tenses as he looks in the direction of the stage. He staggers towards it, his expression a little clearer than it was just seconds ago. Mindy still stands there, her face a mask of shock and confusion. Her eyes dart to Maurice, then back to me, and I can tell by the way she’s staring at me that she's connecting the dots.

Maurice stumbles towards the stage, shaking his head in disbelief. "So, this is why you didn’t want me here Maron," he slurs, glaring at Mindy. His words are dripping with bitterness. "You took my woman."

Blyad.

So much for having a civilized party.

Leave it to Maurice to fuck things up.

My patience is wearing thin. I know I’ll have a lot of explaining to do when I meet with my associates in the office next week. I also owe Mindy an explanation for what is happening. I just hope she’ll still want to talk to me after this.

But before any of that, I need to take care of my idiot brother before he causes more problems. I move closer to Maurice, speaking in a calm and measured tone. "Be careful, brother. You're walking on thin ice here."

But of course, Maurice is not someone you just reason with. Especially not when he’s drunk. In a moment, he turns into the manchild he is, and lunges towards Mindy. His hands are stretched out, his face contorted with rage and hurt. I react instantly, moving on pure instinct. In a flash, I'm betweenthem like a human shield, protecting Mindy from my brother’s drunken fury.

I’ve had it with him. Until now, I’ve been trying to handle this in a civil manner, but enough is enough. I grab Maurice's arm with a grip like iron, my fingers digging into his flesh. He yelps in pain, but I don't loosen my hold.

"Enough," I snarl, my voice cutting through the air like a whip crack. The room falls deathly silent again. Even the guests who started to leave turn back to see what is happening. "You have crossed a line, Maurice," I growl. Without a moment of hesitation, I seize his collar, twisting the fabric until it tightens around his throat. He gasps, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance.

"What the fuck… the fuck are you doing, Maron?" He wheezes, clawing at my hands, trying to break free. But I'm immovable, a force of nature he can't hope to overcome.

"You’re coming with me, dear brother," I declare, my tone brooking no argument. I forcefully guide him towards the door, my grip never wavering despite his struggle.

Maurice resists every step of the way, his feet dragging on the floor as he tries to plant himself. "Leave me alone, Maron," he stammers.

As we near the exit, he suddenly finds a burst of strength, wrenching his arm free from my grasp. Before I can react, he whirls around, his eyes locked on Mindy once more. The look on his face is pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You're fucking my brother, huh?" he jeers, his voice dripping with disgust. "Didn't take you long to find someone after you left me, did it you fucking slut?"

The room erupts into a flurry of shocked gasps and hushed whispers. Eyes dart between Maurice, Mindy, and me. Timofey stands frozen, shaking his head, his champagne glass suspended halfway to his lips. Mindy recoils as if she's been slapped, her eyes full of hurt and disbelief.

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