Page 58 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva

It came out harder than I’d intended, too fast, too certain. But I didn’t take it back.

Because despite everything else I knew about my brother—his detachment, his pride, the coldness he wrapped around himself like armor—that kind of darkness didn’t exist in him.

He would’ve broken Yulia quietly, maybe. Locked her out. Shut down every open vulnerable corner of himself that allowed him to feel too much.

But he wouldn’t have killed her.

Not poison.

Not like that.

My jaw tightened, and I leaned back in the chair, letting the cold leach into my back. “I don’t care who did it,” I said finally, my voice lower now. More slashing. “It’s the why that matters.”

Damian’s eyebrow lifted slightly, intrigued. “If you find out the motive, you’re halfway to finding the killer.”

My eyes narrowed as my mind pulled on strings of memories, conversations, blanks I hadn’t known were there before. “What did she know?” I breathed. “Who was afraid of her?”

I exhaled slowly, and my gaze drifted to the estate, the light spilling out of the windows, the music drifting from somewhere beyond the garden doors.

“It wasn’t someone outside the Bratva,” I added. “It was one of us. But why?”

Damian nodded once. “I agree with you. The estate was heavily guarded; it would’ve been hard for anyone else to penetrate. And for her to be killed like that, it had to be someone she trusted.”

We didn’t speak for a while after that.

Just sat in the dark, both of us lost in thought as the realization began to sink in slowly.

His fingers tapped once on the rim of his glass, then went quiet. “You think it was about the alliances?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But maybe she saw something she wasn’t supposed to. Heard something. Somebody might’ve thought she was leverage…or a liability.”

“She was smart,” Damian said. “Quiet, but smart. That kind of woman sees everything.”

Exactly.

Yulia was nice, sure. Diplomatic. But she wasn’t naive. And the way she’d been acting those last few weeks—softer on Rurik, but more biting in private—had been a warning sign I hadn’t known how to read until now.

She knew something.

And whoever killed her…knew she was getting close to exposing them.

I ground my knuckles into my mouth, staring out into the darkness.

“I didn’t keep her safe,” I said out loud. “She was family. I should have protected her when Rurik was busy sticking his dick in whatever whore opened up for him.”

And the thought that Zoelle could possibly hate me for what happened to her sister wasn’t something I wanted to sit with. I knew she did, but I couldn’t accept it.

Damian turned to me then. His eyes were leveled against mine. Unapologetic. “Don’t do that to yourself. You can’t protect everyone.”

I didn’t say anything.

Couldn’t.

Because the truth was bitter, and it tasted of failure.

I’d thought I had all the power in the world. Thought my arm was long enough to keep everyone I loved safe.

But she died anyway. Alone in her room, in her sleep, under my brother’s roof and wings.