Page 113 of His Forced Bride
"And don't make me regret this."
I nod and leave the dining room, my heart pounding with equal parts anticipation and guilt.
In sixty minutes, I'll be outside these walls for the first time in a week.
And maybe, if I'm clever enough, I'll figure out how to mend my family which has been broken so long, I don’t remember why it fell apart.
20
YURI
The Gravitch family gathers around a scarred metal table under a buzzing light and the haze of cigar smoke that clouds the air.
Dimitri called this meeting without consulting me first—a breach of protocol that already has my blood running hot.
The other men sit in their expensive suits, faces carved from stone, while increased tension creates a haze between us.
"The marriage was a mistake," Fyodor grumbles.
His bulk fills the chair at the far end of the table, thick fingers drumming against the metal surface.
My uncle was next in line to run the family if my father had died before my grandfather passed.
Of course, he sides with Dimitri.
The man is one step away from being too senile to lead anyone.
"The girl brings nothing but complications."
"The Mirova alliance secured textile routes through Eastern Europe and our trade was subsequently doubled," I counter, keeping my voice level despite the irritation clawing at my chest.
"Revenue increased thirty percent in the first quarter."
"Temporary gains," Dimitri interjects.
He leans forward, elbows on the table, salt-and-pepper hair catching the harsh light.
"The arms deal Dominic started is still unresolved. Kozlov's growing impatient. And your new wife's mother contests business ownership through legal channels, drawing attention we don't need."
Anton, one of our cousins, nods his agreement.
"Too many variables. Too many moving pieces that could collapse at any moment."
These men have no clue what they're talking about.
Kozlov is dead.
I killed him myself, but until I know who is behind the attacks for certain, I won't tell them.
I'm almost certain it's Viktoria, but I won't rule out inner-family conflict.
I wouldn't put it past Dimitri to push one of my enemies toward me.
Still, if he is the one pulling strings, he'd have heard of Kozlov's death by now.
"And then there's the matter of perception," Fyodor adds.
His scarred hands fold on the table as he speaks.
