Page 57 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

"That photo isn't what you thought," I said, forcing my voice steady over the rage burning for Isabella.

Olga snatched the phone back into her palm. "Then explain it."

"Last night Isabella lost it. She got drunk and damn near jumped off the terrace. I took her home. I promised I'd leave after she fell asleep, and I passed out in a chair by the bed." The words came out fast, faster than I'd ever spoken. "Yeah, I ended up on the bed. Nothing happened. I stayed dressed. I didn't touch her."

Elena's lips moved, but no sound came. Her chest still rose and fell too hard, like every word shoved that photo back into her body.

"You know she still has feelings for you," Olga said, staring me down. "And you still gave her the chance to crawl close and take a picture like that. What the hell was Elena supposed to think?"

I only looked at Elena. "It looked dirty. That didn't mean I betrayed you. You should've trusted me."

She lifted her chin and let out a bitter little laugh.

"So you say nothing happened, and I'm supposed to just swallow it. Funny. I had to fight like hell to get you to believe I wasn't the kind of person you decided I was. She came back, and that trust vanished overnight. Why? Why did she get to erase it?" The disappointment in her eyes damn near burned me to ash.

I looked away, ashamed.

"You could drag her out of my birthday party in front of everybody and sneak a kiss with her." Her voice cut. "You could stay with her all night and ignore every call I made. But you didn't get to take away my right not to believe you."

"I didn't fucking kiss her!" I shouted. "She leaned in. I moved."

Elena flinched, but she still didn't believe me.

"Fine. Say that's true." Her voice went colder. "Then what about the photo? If nothing happened, why was she half naked, pressed up on you, taking something that screamed you two slept together—and sending it to me?"

I didn't answer right away.

Isabella cared about appearances. She understood lines. A screwup like that didn't fit her. But the image of her sobbing on the terrace, ready to die, kept me from condemning her without hearing her out.

"When I woke up, my clothes were still on. She drank a lot. Maybe she didn't even know what she was doing."

Elena looked like I'd slapped her. "You're making excuses for her."

"I'm stating facts."

"Your facts always protect her."

Olga broke into the suffocating silence between me and Elena.

"Kiryan, tell me," she said sharply. "What made you flip overnight and start treating Elena like the enemy again? Did Isabella say something?"

Enemy. The word hit my chest like a fist.

Elena's tears fell. I saw the pain in her. But that video sat in my phone like a live bomb.

"Elena... you really didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"The video from the engagement night. The one of me and you in that room."

She froze. The look on her face wasn't guilt. It was confusion, like she didn't even understand what I meant.

Olga frowned. "What video?"

"Someone filmed us." I didn't take my eyes off Elena. "Isabella said you sent it to her. That you used it to force her to leave. You said if she didn't, you'd hand it to the press and let the whole world know I touched my fiancée's sister on the night of my engagement."

The last bit of color drained from Elena's face. Two seconds later, she shook her head hard.