Page 59 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
It’s been five days since Arina locked herself in her room after discovering who her brothers really are. Since then, she’s barely emerged except to eat, and that too, because I force her to. She hasn’t even mentioned her brothers once, nor asked to speak to them, let alone see them.
And I’m not going to force her to contact them. They’ve shattered her, and I’m only concerned with Arina and her well-being.
There hasn’t been a moment when I’m not worried about her. Whenever I go into her room to check on her, she has this faraway look about her, and though she tries to make an effort to talk, I notice how she forces herself to. Her hair is a mess, she’s always in bed, and her eyes, always rimmed with red.
If she just asks, even once, to talk to her brothers or puts in a request to meet them, I won’t be the one to stop her. But the truth is, I’m afraid if I force her to, she’ll only get more triggered.
Once again, Tikhon calls. When I don’t pick up, he sends a text: Where is Arina. Pick up or else.
The messages have been escalating. First, he was inquiring about Arina’s whereabouts. Then, he was asking if she was okay. Soon after, he started demanding to speak with her, and now, he dares to send thinly veiled threats?
I don’t respond, and he calls again. This time, I lose my patience. Who does he think he is, acting like an entitledasshole? Thinking he has a right to her when she doesn’t even want to see his face?
It’s time, I think, to let him know where he stands. I snatch up the phone on the next ring. I need to end this before it gets worse.
“What?”
“You finally picked up,” Tikhon sounds furious. “How gracious of you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Put my sister on the phone.”
I lean back in my chair and clench my fists at the tone he takes. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Bullshit,” he spits. “You’re keeping her from us. She’d never choose to stay with you.”
“You saw her face at the café, Tikhon. She made her choice. She heard what you’ve done.” I try to keep my voice stable, but it’s hard. “I guess she finally knows what kind of men her brothers really are and is done with you.”
I feel a faint satisfaction while delivering that last line.
“Fuck off, Ilariy,” he hisses. “She knows you’re no saint. You forced her to marry you!”
“And yet, she still chose to leave with me rather than go back home with you. What does that tell you?”
His breathing grows heavier on the line. “How is she?”
The question catches me off guard with its genuine concern, and I answer impulsively.
“She’s fine.”
“Let me speak to her.”
“No.”
“Goddammit, Letvin!” His voice cracks slightly. “She’s my baby sister. I raised her after our parents died. I need to know she’s okay.”
A strange feeling tugs at me, makes me want to comfort this man who simply loves his sister just as much as I love mine. But then I remember what he did to Nikandr and Lilibeth, and the moment of empathy evaporates.
“Don’t pretend to care about her now,” I snigger. “You lied to her your entire life. What kind of brother does that make you?”
“Don’t you dare judge me, Ilariy! You have no idea what we were going through?”
“Oh, really? You seemed fine as hell when you were busy getting my brother hooked on drugs. Were you suffering when you allowed Viktor to torture Lilibeth like that? Don’t you dare ask me not to judge you! You tortured a woman! A WOMAN! And just so you know, Arina knows everything now, Tikhon. Every sick, twisted thing you’ve done.”
The line goes silent for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is lined with fury. “You told her that?”
“I told her everything.” I smile.
