Page 79 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

A maid appears to take our coats, and then we’re being led through the house toward Konstantin’s study. The walk feels endless, each step bringing me closer to a confrontation I’m not sure I’m prepared for.

The study door is closed when we arrive. The maid knocks twice, then pushes it open and announces us.

“Mr. Volkonsky, your son and his wife.”

Konstantin is seated behind his desk, a glass of something amber in his hand. He looks up as we enter, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Roman. Vera.” He sets down his glass and stands, moving around the desk to greet us. “What a pleasant surprise.”

His gaze lingers on me a moment too long. I feel like a piece of meat being examined for purchase.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, settling back into his chair and gesturing for us to sit.

Roman remains standing. “We’re not here for pleasure.”

Konstantin’s smile doesn’t waver. “No, I don’t suppose you are.” He looks from Roman to me, then back again. “Then why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

Roman takes a breath. “Vera is pregnant.”

Konstantin’s expression doesn’t change, but something shifts behind his eyes. “Pregnant,” he repeats slowly. “How unexpected.”

“It’s not unexpected,” Roman says. “I’m telling you now because I want there to be no confusion about the child’s parentage or my position as its father.”

Konstantin leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His eyes move to me, and I have to fight the urge to shrink back under his scrutiny.

“How far along?” he asks.

“A few weeks,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

“Weeks.” He calculates something in his head, his lips pursing. “Interesting timing.”

Roman’s jaw tightens. “The timing is irrelevant. What matters is that Vera is my wife, and she’s carrying my child.”

“The timing is far from irrelevant.” Konstantin’s voice is mild, but there’s an edge to it that makes my skin crawl. “You married her only two days ago, Roman. Now you’re telling me she’s already pregnant? One might wonder about the haste of this union.”

“One might wonder,” Roman agrees, his voice flat. “Or one might simply accept that I’ve claimed what’s mine.”

Konstantin’s eyes narrow. “Claimed what’s yours. An unusual choice of words.”

“Is it?” Roman steps forward, his posture aggressive. “Vera was married to my brother. Now she’s married to me. The child she carries is a Volkonsky, regardless of the circumstances of its conception. That’s all that should matter to you.”

Konstantin is quiet for a long moment, his gaze moving between us. I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes, the calculations being made, the strategies being formed.

“You’re right, of course,” he says finally. “The child is a Volkonsky. As such, it has a place in this family.”

“Good. Then we’re in agreement.”

“I didn’t say we were in agreement.” Konstantin stands, moving around the desk until he’s standing in front of me. His eyes bore into mine, and I have to fight the urge to look away. “I said the child has a place. I didn’t say anything about you.”

My heart pounds in my chest. Roman moves to stand beside me, his hand finding the small of my back in a gesture of support.

“What are you saying?” Roman asks.

Konstantin’s smile is cold. “I’m saying that a child needs a father, Roman. A real father. Not a man who married its mother out of some misguided sense of obligation.”

“I married her because she’s mine.” Roman’s voice is low, dangerous. “The child she carries is mine. I will not allow anyone to question that.”

“Of course you won’t.” Konstantin moves back to his chair, settling into it with the ease of a man who has never doubted his power. “You must understand my position. This family has a reputation to uphold. An heir born out of wedlock, conceived under questionable circumstances... it raises questions. Questions that could weaken our position.”