Page 86 of Gilded in Blood

They look tense, eyes scanning the room before landing on me.

Artyom speaks first. “Is this about you both getting arrested yesterday?”

They already know about that? Of course, they do. My brothers have eyes and ears everywhere.

I can’t look them in the face. I sit down on the couch, fidgeting with my hands, staring at the floor.

“We need to talk.” Kirill gestures for them to sit. They exchange a glance before taking their seats, their attention fixed on him.

Kirill takes a deep breath and starts talking. He tells them everything. How he isn’t the real Ilya, how he kidnapped the real one, took his identity, and has been working for Michael this whole time.

The moment he finishes, silence falls for half a second. Then chaos erupts.

Guns are suddenly in their hands, pointed straight at Kirill.

“You son of a bitch!”

Mikhail yells at me, “Milana step away from him! Get behind us, now!”

I don’t move. I stay right where I am, between them and Kirill.

“Milana, move!” Artyom barks.

I shake my head, voice shaking but determined. “Please put your guns down. Don’t shoot him.”

They’re both screaming at me to get out of the way, calling Kirill a traitor, telling me to step behind them. The room is loud, chaotic, filled with their anger.

I scream back, tears stinging my eyes. “I think I’m in love with him!”

The words cut through the noise like a knife. Everything goes silent.

My brothers scream at the same time, voices overlapping in shock and fury.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Mikhail asks in disbelief.

Before I can even react, Artyom storms over to Kirill, lands a punch on his face, grabs him by the collar, and yanks him up with one powerful hand. His gun is pressed against Kirill’s head, finger on the trigger.

“You've been sleeping with my sister? How dare you?” he snarls. “How dare you touch my sister? You lied to us, and now you’ve been sleeping with her?”

Mikhail is shouting too, voice raw with anger. “Did he hurt you? Did he force himself on you? Tell us the truth, Milana!”

“I’m not hurt!” I cry out, stepping closer. “He didn’t force himself on me. It’s mutual.”

The room erupts into chaos. Both my brothers are yelling, guns still drawn, demanding I step away. Kirill doesn’t fight back. He doesn’t even reach for his own weapon.

He just stands there, letting my brother hold him by the collar, blood trickling from his lip where he was punched.

Mikhail walks over and lands another punch on Kirill’s face.

“Please stop,” I cry, but they're not listening.

As Artyom raises his hand, ready to punch him again, Kirill grabs his wrist, stopping him.

“Twice was enough,” he says calmly.

Artyom turns to Mikhail, letting out a humorless chuckle. “Can you believe the nerve of this guy?”

Mikhail cocks his gun. “Why is he still breathing?”