“Shut up, Erin. I’ll deal with you later.” He doesn’t lift his gaze from me as his wife makes a small sound and Alina cries.
Albert barks urgently.
I narrow my eyes at him. I love Demyan. He’s like a brother to me. He’s family, but he’s speaking to Erin like this? Ignoring his sister and her pain? I don’t know him right now. I don’t know him at all.
“You can’t even fight back, can you? You’re weak. You’re pathetic. No wonder you can’t run a bratva?—”
“Demyan! Stop it!” Alina shouts.
I don’t look at her. I don’t dare look at her.
Or at Erin, who’s murmuring something to Alina.
“You can shut your mouth, too, Alina. I’ll deal with you, too. You thought I was tough on you before? You won’t be leaving your room until you’re thirty, when I choose your husband for you. Someone old, fat, and who can’t get it up. Someone who’ll give me a fortune and you?—”
“Demyan, that is enough,” Erin snaps. “Talk to me how you want, but this is your sister.”
“Who the fuck are you, man?” I ask him in Russian. “You speak to your wife and sister like that?”
“I’m the pakhan. King of my world, and you’re no longer in it.”
“You think I want to be in your world when you’re like this?” I pause. “I love her?—”
He punches me again.
“Hit me again, and I’ll make you regret it, Demyan.”
He grins at me, feral, nasty, and he raises his fist. Then he yells as a ball of fur launches himself at him and bites his hand.
Demyan throws the dog. Before I can react, Alina screams and hurls herself at her brother. He shoves her hard.
If his throwing Albert off him made me see red, pushing Alina makes me lose all reason.
With a cry, I attack. I slam my fists into his chest. I grab his head and bash mine into it, and then I toss him away from me.
I know he didn’t hurt Albert. I know it was more a flick than hurling the dog down. His hand is bleeding, and I’m fucking glad.
I know he shoved Alina to get her away, not to hurt her.
Demyan may be the Yegorov pakhan, but he’s no king. He’s a man as flawed as I am. Unbendable where my heart may be too soft.
But I’m no pushover.
And he’s crossed too many lines.
His wife, my dog, my girl.
We circle each other. I glance at Alina, who’s on the ground with Albert and Erin, whose face says she just may cause Demyan even more pain tonight than I will.
The worst thing is, I get it.
I get his anger.
His hurt.
The feeling of betrayal he must be feeling. From me, his sister, even Erin, who clearly conspired with Alina.
I know Demyan like I know myself, but he’s being a fucking asshole, a wounded beast. He doesn’t get to do that shit. Not now, not when he has the world. All I want is to see his sister happy, and for some reason, I’m a source of that happiness.