Page 59 of His Forced Bride
I push past Kirill, and he doesn't stop me this time.
I march out into the hallway of what Yuri calls "our home", but this is the least home-like place I've ever been.
I hate it almost as much as I hate the situation.
Rosa emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray of tea, takes one look at my face, and retreats.
Even she realizes I'm on a warpath, and no one, not even Oleg, stands in my way as I approach.
I don't knock on Yuri's office door.
I barge right in and let the door slam shut behind me.
He sits behind his massive desk, reviewing files on dual monitors.
A security feed flickers on one screen—views of the compound perimeter, the front gate, the garden paths.
He doesn't acknowledge my entrance or look up from whatever business consumes his attention, and the storm in his eyes haunts me, but I approach anyway.
"Another warehouse burned," I spit, and I strut right up to his desk.
He still doesn't look up at me.
His fingers continue moving across the keyboard. "I'm aware."
"Three people are in the hospital."
"I've made arrangements for their care."
Finally, his eyes flick up at me, but only for a second, and my fingers curl into fists under my arms.
"Arrangements."
The word tastes bitter.
"They're not inventory, Yuri. They're people who worked for me, who fucking trusted me."
I squeeze my hands so tight my fingernails bite into my palms, but I don't lash out yet.
"And now they're casualties of the world you married into."
Now his eyes trace up across my body and lock on my face, but the amused smirk I saw on Oleg's face isn't on Yuri's face.
All I see there is anger.
I step closer to his desk, rage building in my chest. "I want to see them."
"No."
He turns back to his monitor as if to ignore my request.
"They're scared. They don't understand what's happening. The least I can do?—"
"The least you can do is stay alive."
He looks up again, his dark eyes raking over my skin.
It makes me flush with anger and a touch of attraction when his eyes linger on my chest for a second.
