Page 15 of The Brutal Arrangement

“Oh, don’t give me that.” She smiled. “Maxim is already paranoid and overprotective as hell.” She sat on the bench, forcing me to face her. “It was just some spotting. They did some bloodwork and determined that I have a slightly increased chance of blood clots, so exercise and staying fit and not being sedentary are actually very important.” Pointing at me, shenarrowed her eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Why do you act like I’m a leper?”

“I’mthe leper,” I replied, jabbing my finger at my face to indicate my scar.

She blew a raspberry. “Oh, for God’s sake. You’re a macho, deadly Mafia man who’s insecure about that little line?”

I shrugged. “I scare women,” I replied.

“Not me.”

I shrugged. “Thanks?”

“I have to imagine it’s more of your, um, reputation that could intimidate a woman than anything else.” She gestured loosely at the floor, indicating the basement. “You know. Your, uh, job.”

She meant torturing enemies. Killing them. Murdering others in the name of protecting my family.

I could only shrug again, neither confirming nor denying what she said. Claiming this scar over my eyebrow as a reason women feared me was a cop-out. It wasn’tthatprominent of a mark, a souvenir I’d received when Maxim, Nik, and I were taken because of our mother’s affair and betrayal of Father.

“Is that why you balked at the idea of an arranged marriage?” she asked.

I faced her directly, irritated. “How do you know about that?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Maxim told me last night.”

Huh. He really does love her to trust her with more intel.

“Is it?” She was persistent, all right.

I sighed, shaking my head and returning the weight to the rack. “No. I’m not balking. But I’m annoyed that the idea of a marriage is even on the table right now with my focus on finding Nik.”

“But Maxim makes it sound like he’ll come back. That he’s alive and taking advantage of the situation to spy.” She frowned. “Right?”

“I agree, to an extent.” I ran my hand through my hair, aggravated that she was this good at tempting me to open up.

“Then why are you still so grumpy?” she asked.

“Because it’s Katerina,” I said. “Katerina Kozlov.”

Maxim entered the gym with Saul. “What about her?” Saul asked, grinning.

I groaned at their approach. Maxim pulled Sloane in for a kiss, which was laughable. As if he had to worry about staking his claim over her here, among brothers. Then again, the small, smug smile he wore suggested he’d kissed her just because he wanted to, not to unnecessarily mark his territory.

I scowled again.

My brother, the most resistant man who’d succumbed to commitment like this, had real love. If I were forced to marry Katerina Kozlov, of all women on earth, I’d never have that.

What the hell are you thinking?

There’s no such thing as real love.

Maxim’s just pussy-whipped.

“What about her?” Saul asked, still smiling goofily at my glum expression.

“I don't want to marry her.”

“Obviously,” Maxim said. “I’m not crazy about this arrangement either. We’ve spent too much time focusing on the Kozlovs as enemies, not friends to further align ourselves with.”

“Then what’s changed?” Sloane asked.

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