Page 79 of Of Murder and Matrimony

“I saved you.” Yuri looked down at his outfit. “And what’s wrong with my clothes? They are practical.”

“Practical people wear jeans or sweats. Maybe even a suit,” I retorted. “Mercenaries wear… that.”

“So there’s nothing wrong with my clothes.” He arched a brow and smirked. “I spend most of my time hunting people.”

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to reveal my older brother Adrik. He wore a black suit that looked like somebody had poured expensive fabric over his body. His frame was as tall as Yuri’s, but his muscles were more toned than bulky, like a swimmer. Where Yuri and I had blonde hair and blue eyes, Adrik’s jet-black hair made his light blue eyes piercing as he turned his assessing gaze on me.

“Olesya.” His easy smile irked me further. “It’s good to have you home finally.”

“You stole me from my home,” I hissed, turning so he could see where my hands were zip-tied together. “This isn’t exactly a warm welcome.”

“Yuri.” Adrik flicked his fingers at my bound wrists. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen her earlier,” Yuri muttered, pulling a knife from his waist as he approached. “Stay still.”

With a quick flick of his wrist, he released my hands, and my shoulders ached at the sudden change in position. I rubbed my wrists and rolled my shoulders back, working out the stiff muscles. How long had it been since Yuri had kidnapped me?

My eyes roamed the walls, finally finding a clock. I’d been gone for an hour. My chest tightened with worry.

“Yuri shot Dante,” I blurted, hoping I could get Adrik to see reason. “I need to find out if he’s okay. He wouldn’t let me stop and help him.”

“There’s no need to worry about the Italian any longer,” Adrik replied dismissively. He stopped a couple of feet from me and placed his large palms on my shoulders, squeezing lightly. Pain and determination filled his eyes. “You are under my protection now. He will never touch you again.”

“Oh, Adrik.” My shoulders sagged, and tears clouded my vision. He wanted so badly to help me, but he’d fucked it all up. “I survived for a decade without your protection. I don’t need it now.”

His grip tightened until I whimpered, and he released me, yanking his hands back to his sides and fisting them. “You were taken because I wasn’t there to stop him.”

It tugged at my heart that he blamed himself, but it was misplaced. “I was taken because our father made a deal a very long time ago. And it’s over and done with. I’m married to Dante.”

“We will find a way to get you out of it,” he promised gravely. “Women become widows all the time in this life.”

“Adrik, no!” I grasped his upper arm, my fingers digging in desperately, wrinkling his expensive suit. “You can’t kill Dante.”

“I will if it’s the only way you can be free.” His face was set, his mind made up on the matter. His jaw ticked with determination. “Yuri was supposed to take care of him tonight.”

“I told him not to kill him,” I explained, trying to reach through my brother’s revenge-filled ideals. “I love him.”

Yuri scoffed, and Adrik shook his head, his expression filled with pity. “You may think you love him right now. It’s not uncommon in situations like yours. Your mind made you feel like you were in love as a self-preservation tactic.”

“It’s not a tactic!” I insisted, shaking his arm until he gently pried my fingers from his sleeve.

“We received word that he was holding you against your will.” His face turned stormy, eyes flashing with rage. He growled, “Evidence he was hurting you.”

I stilled, taking in the new information. “What evidence?”

Yuri pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and flipped it around. There was a photo of a dimly lit hallway in the Neretti house, and Dante had me pressed against the wall, hand around my throat.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I croaked. How was I going to explain the kiss that followed?

Adrik caressed my cheek, his fingertips brushing away my frustrated tears, mistaking them for pained memories. “I’m so sorry for everything you went through, moya kukolka.”

His touch was both nostalgic and foreign, his voice different from what I remembered. More tears fell as I tried to process my situation. I needed to get home, but I wanted to see my brothers. I’d been asking Dante for this very opportunity, but I’d never wanted it to be like this.

“Please, take me back,” I whispered, my throat clogged with emotion. “I want to go back to Dante.”

Yuri closed in behind me, and my brothers made me the center of their sibling sandwich of comfort as they wrapped their arms around me and whispered reassurances. I felt safe, loved, and cherished… but alone and bereft without my husband.

I forced myself to shove them away, to stand on my own, ignoring the hurt on my brothers’ faces when I rejected their coddling. Swiping the tears from my cheeks, I refused to feel sorry for myself. I needed to be strong until Dante could find me.

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