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“No,” he says. “But Irina was never going to make that easy.”

I open the file on my desk even though I have no interest in it. “Irina will recover.”

“But your bed won’t,” he says. “What? Don’t give me that look. I saw it being carried out, and I know for fact beds just don’t break.”

I look at him. “You know that for a fact?”

Viktor smiles. “I have lived a full life.”

“Congratulations.” I close the file again. “Did you come here to discuss beds?”

“No. I came here to discuss why Irina looked like she was about to set fire to your hallway.”

“That’s between Irina and me.”

“Right,” he says.

He leans back in the chair and crosses one ankle over his knee, but the easy posture doesn’t quite work. He is watching the door now, not me. The hallway is quiet beyond it, but I can hear Anya’s voice somewhere farther away, raised in complaint, then Elara answering her in that calm way of hers.

Viktor hears it, too. “You’ve made this complicated,” he says.

“It was already complicated.”

“No. Before this morning, you could still pretend she was only here for Anya.”

“She’s here for Anya.”

“And now?”

I don’t answer.

He nods once, as if I have. “That’s what I thought.”

I hate that he sounds almost gentle. It is easier when Viktor is making jokes. I can dismiss him then. I can tell him to get out, and he will laugh and make another remark before doing exactly what he wants anyway. This version of him is harder to push aside because he is not entirely wrong.

I look at him. “You’ve become very thoughtful today.”

“No. You’ve become very obvious.”

“I’m not discussing Elara with you.”

“You already are.”

“I’m telling you to stay out of it.”

“And I’m telling you that if this goes badly, Anya pays for it too,” he says.

My hand tightens on the file. “Stop. Anya and the Volkov Bratva are the two most important things in my life. Nothing else matters.”

If he’s hurt by my declaration, he doesn’t show it. And I don’t expect my brother to care for me or for this world. He’s never paid much attention to what it is that I do so long as the money doesn’t stop coming in.

“That’s what you keep telling yourself, but I see something. I mean, have you seen the way you look at her?” he asks. “You basically eye fuck her all day or moon the rest of the time.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want her,” I say.

“No, that would be pointless. Anyone with eyes can see that’s already done. I’m saying decide what you’re doing before everyone else is forced to live with it,” he says.

I scoff. “That’s advice?”