Page 61 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva

I placed my palm against the glass and just tried to breathe.

And Matvey.

Matvey had held me. He’d kissed me and looked into my eyes and claimed me like I was just another shiny toy, yet he knew what happened to my sister under his brother’s protection.

How many nights had I fallen asleep in his arms? Still, he knew what happened all along and buried it while I mourned my sister in ignorance.

My heart ached, a burning, raw knot—as if something was tearing loose from inside.

I spun, having to move, having to take a breath outside, and I nearly collided with him.

“Kotyonok,” he breathed.

My body jerked back before I could stop myself. A reflex. One he caught immediately.

His brows furrowed slightly—not with annoyance, but with something that seemed more like confusion and concern. That low calculation he always wore when something did not add up.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scanning my face like he could read through my thoughts if he looked long enough.

His tone was softer now, cautious, but I could sense the steel beneath. That familiar edge.

And I couldn’t do it.

Not here. Not yet.

Not with that whole room standing behind me, full of men who could smile and kill in the same breath.

I pasted on a brittle, fake smile that came close to hurting my cheeks, and I tilted my chin. “Nothing.”

His jaw snapped shut. “You’re pale. Something’s wrong with you.”

“It’s just the wine.” I laughed mirthlessly. “And the heels. I’m not used to standing for long with heels.”

His eyes ran over me once again. He didn’t believe me. I could tell. Matvey was already someone who didn’t trust people easily, so I wasn’t surprised he could pick the signs that I was lying.

But he didn’t call me out on it; maybe he would later.

“I’ll tell you later,” I added on quickly, stepping back before my legs betrayed me. “I’m fine.”

My shoulder jostled against his chest, just a little, and I could sense the tension coiling inside him.

But he let me go.

He didn’t grab my wrist or call my name as I started to walk away.

I didn’t look back; I couldn’t care to. Not after what I’d just learned.

Matvey would never know what I’d heard. Not yet. Not until I had the full picture on what happened to my sister.

Because one thing was certain.

Yulia was murdered; they knew she was, and there had to have been a reason for it. Maybe she learned or saw somethingthat she shouldn’t have, just like I’d heard something that I shouldn’t have.

And the one human being I trusted among the Yezhovs had buried all of that. He’d looked me in the eyes and held back on that information.

I couldn’t trust anyone. I had to be careful to make it out of here alive.

Even if it meant learning to lie to the one man I’d nearly let myself love.