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His jaw tightens, but I keep going.

“How's it feel knowing she'd rather disappear than be with you? At least Katarina didn't run screaming.”

“That's enough.” Alexi's voice cuts through the tension, but I'm not done.

“Don't get me started on you.” I turn on my youngest brother. “Always making jokes, taking the piss out of everyone else instead of focusing on sorting your own life out. When's the last time you had a real conversation with someone who wasn't filtered through a screen?”

“I said enough.” This time, Alexi's tone carries sharp edges I rarely hear from him.

“Why? Because I'm actually saying what we're all thinking?” My voice echoes off the dining room walls. “We're all fucked up. We're all obsessed with things we can't have or people who don't want us. So don't stand there acting like I'm the only one who's lost his mind.”

Nikolai's shoulders are rigid, Sofia's still blushing, Dmitri looks like I just punched him, and Alexi's fingers drum against his thigh—his tell when he's pissed.

“Feel better?” Alexi asks quietly.

“No.” The fight drains out of me as quickly as it came. “I don't.”

The silence stretches like a taut wire until Sofia clears her throat.

“Well, this is cozy.” She sets her phone down with deliberate care. “Should I order popcorn for the next round, or are we done airing family grievances?”

Alexi snorts despite himself. “I vote popcorn. Haven't seen Erik throw a tantrum like that since he was twelve, and Nikolai wouldn't let him blow up the neighbor's shed.”

“I had a perfectly valid reason for that explosion,” I mutter.

“Yeah, you were bored.” Dmitri eases back into his chair. “Just like now.”

“This isn't boredom.” But the words lack the venom they had moments ago.

Nikolai pours himself more wine, movements deliberate. “No one's saying it is.”

Sofia moves to stand behind Nikolai's chair, her hand settling on his shoulder. “When I first met your brother, I thought he was completely insane. Stalking me, manipulating my life, making decisions about my future without asking.” She looks directly at me. “Sound familiar?”

“That's not?—”

“It is.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “The difference is, I chose to stay. Eventually.”

Alexi leans back in his chair.

“So, what's the plan?” Alexi asks as if it's already decided that I'm going after her.

I drag my hands through my hair. “There is no plan. That's the problem.”

“Since when has that stopped you?” Dmitri shifts in his chair, wincing slightly. “You've done stupider things with less reason.”

“This is different.” The admission tastes bitter. “Igor's expecting retaliation. He'll have her locked down tight.”

“Good thing you know something about breaking into locked places.” Alexi's fingers tap against the table. “I could pull building schematics, security layouts?—”

“No.” Nikolai's voice cuts through the room like ice. “We're not starting a war over this.”

My jaw clenches. “She doesn't deserve what's happening to her.”

“Probably not. But that doesn't make her our responsibility.”

Sofia's hand tightens on Nikolai's shoulder, and something passes between them—one of those silent conversations married couples have.

“What if it was Sofia?” I ask. “What if someone was forcing her into marriage?”