Page 26 of Used Bratva Bride

“Do I?” he muses. “From where I’m sitting, you’ve been kept in the dark about a lot of things. Makes me wonder if you ever really knew him at all.”

I stiffen.

Mikhail notices. His grin widens. I hate him. I hate that he’s right.

“He’s….” I hesitate, trying to piece together an answer that doesn’t make me sound as pathetic as I feel. “He’s distant.”

Mikhail laughs. A sharp, cutting sound. “Distant,” he repeats, shaking his head. “That’s a nice way to say he never gave a shit about you, isn’t it?”

I glare at him, but it’s weak. Everything about me is weak right now.

“I didn’t matter to him,” I admit, my voice quieter now. “Sophia was always the important one.”

His amusement doesn’t fade. If anything, he looks vindicated. “Of course she was,” he says simply. “She was the one with power. You? You were just a loose end he didn’t know what to do with.”

The words should make me angry.

They do—but I’m too exhausted to hold on to it, too worn down to muster anything more than a sharp exhale.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” I say. “You mock me for not knowing the truth, but I didn’t know. What else am I supposed to say? What else am I supposed to do?”

Mikhail watches me for a moment, then stands. “It’s time I left.”

Panic lurches inside me before I can think better of it. “Wait,” I blurt. “Don’t go.”

His brows lift, but I see the amusement flicker in his gaze. He leans down slightly, close enough that I can see the shadow of a smirk on his lips.

“Good night,” he murmurs. Then he turns and walks out, locking the door behind him.

I sit perfectly still, staring at the door long after Mikhail is gone. The finality of the lock clicking into place echoes in my ears, heavier than it should be.

I won’t cry. I won’t. My body betrays me. The lump in my throat grows tighter, the sting behind my eyes worsening as I press my lips together to keep from breaking. My hands fist in the sheets, gripping them so tightly my fingers ache.

Mikhail’s words replay in my head. Mocking. Amused. Like all of this is just another game to him. Like I am just another game.

I blink hard, forcing my tears back. I won’t let him get to me. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much I feel like I’m drowning in this place.

The hopelessness lingers. It festers.

I don’t know how long I sit there, curled up in bed, my body aching, my mind slipping into exhaustion. I might havedozed off at some point because when the next knock comes, I jolt in place.

The door swings open without hesitation, and this time, it’s not Mikhail. Ivan steps inside, his expression unreadable, his movements sharp and efficient.

I tense immediately.

“Doctor’s on the way,” he says, his voice clipped. “Try not to get your hopes up.”

I frown, wary. “Why?”

Ivan smiles slightly, like he enjoys watching me squirm. “Well, you’re not going anywhere, no matter how sick you get.”

A chill runs through me. I swallow, sitting up straighter, ignoring the way my body protests. “Even if I needed a hospital?”

Ivan shrugs. “Wouldn’t matter.”

I stare at him. I can’t tell if he’s bluffing. He doesn’t look like he is.

“You’re lying,” I say, but my voice wavers.

---