Page 168 of Marrying the Savage

At the table, Maksim pushes food around his plate. Irina tells him to eat. Grigori says something low to him, and the boy obeys, still half listening to the adults even though he should not understand enough to be afraid.

Sofia sat with that child once and made him laugh.

The thought comes without warning.

I see her standing between Irina and the boy, defending him even though she barely knew the rules of this house.

Kirill is speaking now, something about the Balkan supplier tied to the weapons from the warehouse attack. I force myself back into the room.

“One broker,” Kirill says. “Not directly tied to Antonov or Sokolov.”

“Name?”

“Still working.”

“Work faster.”

He nods once.

Then Irina says, quietly, “She was here such a short time. You’ve known her what, a few months? And you’ve literally stopped your life for her.”

The table goes silent.

Kirill’s eyes shift toward me, then away. Even Nikolai, standing near the wall, turns his head slightly.

Irina realizes it too late. Her face loses some color, but she doesn’t take it back.

I look at her. “A few months.”

Her fingers tighten around the napkin in her lap. “Damir, I didn’t mean⁠—”

“What did you mean?”

Grigori leans forward. “She chose the wrong words.”

Irina lifts her chin, though I can see the effort it costs her. She’s not weak. None of the women who survive in this family are weak, but fear still shows itself in small places if a man knows where to look.

“I meant that it happened quickly,” she says. “I meant that none of us had time to understand what she became to you before everything in this house started revolving around finding her.”

“That is closer to truth,” I say.

“It was not an accusation.”

“It sounded like one.”

Her mouth tightens. “Maybe because all of us are scared and exhausted.”

Grigori says her name quietly, warning her, but she keeps looking at me.

I prefer courage to apology. But not this time, not when they don’t understand what she means to me. None of them do, and none of them will. I set my glass down before I break this one too. My hand is already cut from the last time I lost patience with something that could not fight back.

Grigori leans forward. “Damir, she’s upset. She didn’t mean it like that.”

I look at him. “Don’t speak for her.”

He stops.

Irina’s hands are tight in her lap. She’s nervous, but she keeps her eyes on me. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t look for her,” she says. “I’m saying this house is close to breaking. You are close to breaking. And nobody knows what Sofia is to you because none of this makes sense from the outside.”