Page 176 of The Wrong Brother

“You didn’t tell her,” I say quietly.

He bristles. “I didn’t need to. She does what I say.”

I hold his gaze and let the silence stretch until it gets uncomfortable. “You didn’t tell her,” I repeat, slower this time, like I’m explaining something to a child.

Hinto’s jaw ticks. “She knew a deal was happening.”

“A deal,” I echo. “Not a marriage.”

He throws his hands up. “It’s the same thing.”

“No,” I say, and the word comes out flat and cold. “It isn’t.” Because deals involve consent, even if it’s forced and ugly. This was an ambush.

My knee still throbs where she got me, and I can almost feel the shape of her wrist in my hand, small and warm and fighting like hell. The memory should annoy me.

Instead, it sits under my skin like heat.

She didn’t look scared of me. She looked furious. Like I had something to do with tricking her.

The thought bothers me more than it should.

Hinto steps closer, lowering his voice. “Listen. This still works. If the marriage goes through, I get ownership in Savannah, real control. You get Miami with my blessing. You become Pakhan down there, yes? This is what you want.”

It is what I want, but not for the reasons Hinto assumes. Not because I want control, or want out of Kazimir’s shadow. I’m perfectly happy being his right-hand man. When we met as children in Prague, roaming the streets and learning how to hurt others, the best he and I could have hoped for was simply surviving.

Then his uncle, one of the major Bratva leaders in the United States, called on him. He took the throne with me by his side. We have decades of experience between us. Hiding in plain sight, bleeding the truth from men who work for our enemies, building an empire.

With our operations in Savannah expanding, we need to secure more territory. I’m not doing this for myself; I’m doing this for my daughter and my two grandchildren.

A surprising twist of fate; finding out Kazimir was obsessed with my daughter to the point of stalking her had me ready to kill him myself. But it’s obvious that they’ve found love, and I can’t deny her that.

Then, only a month ago, my grandchildren arrived. The two of them made me panic with the desperation to make everything perfect for them.

Safe. Secure.

I can only do that if I have more power, and this marriage would bring with it the entire southern shipping operations.

I’ve spent my entire life clawing upward from nothing, from being the street rat Hinto’s kind used to spit on, and now the door is finally open.

All of it balanced on one furious, desperate woman sprinting into the night.

“You should have told her,” I say again.

He sneers. “You’re getting sentimental over a girl you just met?”

My jaw tightens. I don’t give him an answer because he doesn’t deserve one. But also because the truth is worse.

I noticed everything about Ryder Moreno the moment she walked in. I watched the way her eyes mapped every exit, how she held herself like she expected a fight, and the intelligence humming behind every glance. She isn’t decoration or leverage.

She’s dangerous.

And for some reason, that makes my pulse steady instead of racing.

Hinto keeps talking, voice rising, already blaming everyone but himself, already unraveling. I’m done listening.

I shrug out of my jacket and fold it over the back of a pew, then roll my sleeves up slowly and deliberately, exposing my scarred forearms. My hands feel steady, which is always how I know I’m truly angry.

“I’ll fix this myself,” I growl.