Page 78 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

"I drove past." He tilted his head toward the car. "I thought I'd mistaken you for someone else."

New York, and I still managed to run into someone who knew Kiryan at my absolute worst.

I stood, grabbing the suitcase handle. "Morning. Sorry, I probably look a little—"

"Not in the mood for small talk?"

He nailed it. Heat crawled up my ears.

I'd stood too fast. My vision dimmed. My knees buckled.

Yegor stepped in and caught my arm through my coat. "Easy."

The moment I steadied, he let go.

That restraint made my throat burn.

Kiryan never asked if I needed a hand. He decided. He grabbed. He put me where he thought I belonged, safe or not. His hands were bigger, hotter, rough at the fingertips from guns and old scars. Once he locked an arm around my waist, it was almost impossible to get free.

A wave of heat shot down my spine, completely wrong for the moment.

Fuck.

I shoved the memory down.

"You look awful." Yegor dipped his head, not too close. "Have you eaten?"

"No. I'm not hungry."

He glanced at my red eyes and softened his voice. "Can I sit?"

It was a public bench. He still waited for permission.

I nodded.

Yegor sat with a full person's worth of space between us. He didn't stare. He watched the joggers in the distance, like he was giving me the last scraps of dignity I had left.

"Did Kiryan know you were here?"

His name scraped raw skin.

"He probably doesn't want to." I stared at my empty ring finger. "We got divorced."

Surprise flickered across Yegor's face, gone in a heartbeat. "Was that your choice?"

"The papers came from him." I swallowed hard, the bitterness burning. "Isabella came back with a pregnancy report. She also made me listen to a recording. Kiryan said he'd divorce me, then marry her."

The last words nearly sliced my throat open.

Yegor didn't answer right away. His gaze held on my face for a second, like he wanted to say something, then he forced whatever pity was there back down.

"And then he let you walk out alone with your bags?"

"I left on my own." My voice went tight. "Don't call it him kicking me out. I'm not talking about him anymore."

"Then we won't." His tone didn't argue. "Tell me where you are going."

I couldn't.