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The door to my home office flies open, slamming against the wall with a resounding crash. Sofia stands in the doorway, her fiery gaze locked onto mine, her blonde hair flying wildly around her, her chest heaving from the haste with which she came.

"Explain yourself, Dima," she demands, storming into the room like a hurricane, giving me no opportunity to object to her uninvited entry. "What's this nonsense about you marrying Lara? And over Marv of all people?"

“Marv?” I clench my jaw, trying to maintain my composure in the face of her fury. “How do you even—"

“Know about it?” she cuts me off. “So I was right!” she crosses her arms in front of her. “Just last night, your little wife let slip how you saved her from some guy called Marv. She tried to be diplomatic, to save her hide, in all probability, but the breadcrumbs were enough for me to find out what I needed to find.”

I feel anger coursing through me, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from kicking my sister out. “Lara didn’t do anything to save her hide . I did what I had to. And you didn’t answer my question. Until you don’t tell me what you know, I won’t be providing a single answer, Sofia,” I say coldly.

She pauses, taking in my threat.

“Sit,” I say, pointing to the chair before me.

She walks over, still angry, but nevertheless takes her chair.

“I dropped Natalia off first last night after drinks. Then Sofia. I snuck into your house through the servant’s quarter and snooped around your computer.”

“My computer?” I sputter, my hands clenching into fists at her audacity. “Do you have any idea what kind of information you could find there?”

“Dima, focus,” Sofia snaps. “I found out about Marv from the brief on the background check you had done on him. Why marry Lara over this? She’s a good actress, she’s playing you well, but this was unnecessary. Marv is inconsequential, a small-time player. You could’ve dealt with him without involving marriage. Besides, it wasn’t your responsibility to cover up for her indiscretions.”

"Sofia, it's not as simple as—"

"Cut the crap, Brother," she interrupts, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling me with a knowing stare. "I know you better than anyone. There's always an ulterior motive with you."

Her words sting, but I can't deny their truth. We've been each other's confidants for as long as I can remember, and she's seen me at my best and worst. But I refuse to let her undermine my intentions for Lara.

"Marv is dangerous, Sofia," I explain, my voice strained with frustration. "He's a small-time player, yes, but he's reckless and unpredictable. I couldn't leave Lara to such a fate. This goes beyond Lara. He could have come back to haunt us all."

"Is that really it, though?" Sofia challenges, her eyes narrowing. "Because I don’t believe for one second that Marv could be a problem for the Orlovs. There’s something else behind this, and I need to know what!”

"Enough!" I snap, slamming my fist on the desk. "I'm trying to protect her, damn it! Can't you see that?"

"Protect her? But why?" Sofia slams the desk herself.

My anger flares, but deep down, I can't help but question my true motives. Would I have done the same if it were someone else in Lara's position? Or am I just trying to convince myself that I'm acting out of selflessness?

“You don’t have an answer, do you?” Sofia says, at last, giving me that look, which digs into my soul. “You don’t have an answer because you used this situation to claim her. You wanted her, Brother, from the very start, and instead of coming out with it, you toyed with her situation to benefit yourself.”

“Watch yourself, Sofia,” I bellow at her, my voice raised high.

“I’ll watch myself once you admit you claimed her. Marv was never a danger to her, or you, or anyone for that matter. He’s a fly on the wall, and you could have stopped him with one threat. You only married her to possess her for yourself, and she believes you did this because her blackmailer was dangerous! Or maybe she too has an ulterior motive, and you’re too blind by your obsession to see it!”

The air in the room feels thick with tension as Sofia's accusation hangs between us like a heavy cloud. My mind races, grappling with her words, knowing that there's a seed of truth buried within them. I had used the situation with Marv to my advantage to ensure that Lara remained within my grasp. But could it be true that she had known all along? That she saw through my carefully constructed facade of protection?

No. Impossible. Sofia’s only trying to rile up trouble. Before I can formulate a response, the soft sound of something dropping comes from outside. Sofia follows my gaze to the door, her expression unreadable. Dread coils in the pit of my stomach as I realize who must be standing on the other side at this hour.

"Lara," I call out, my voice more composed than I feel. I hear a soft gasp and footsteps hurrying away. I stare at the door, the tension coiling in my chest, tightening its grip around my heart with each passing second. I need to know what she's heard—if she's caught wind of our conversation, everything could come crashing down.

Sofia looks from the door toward me. “As I was saying…” she begins.

"Get out," I growl, pointing toward the door, my mind focused solely on Lara. "I don't need you questioning me right now. You’ve caused enough trouble with your meddling as it is."

Sofia holds my gaze for a moment longer before turning on her heel and storming out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

As I sink back into my chair, I can't help but replay our conversation in my head. Sofia's words echo in my mind, forcing me to confront the unsettling truth: perhaps my intentions aren't as pure as I'd like to believe. But one thing is certain—I'll do whatever it takes to protect Lara, even if it means protecting her from myself.

And for that, I first must speak with her.

***

I rush down the hallway to Lara’s room, pausing outside the door. I raise my hand and knock gently, trying to project an air of calm and control that I'm far from feeling.

"Who is it?" Lara's voice comes softly from behind the door, and I exhale in relief, grateful that she's still here.

"It's Dima," I reply, anxiety gnawing at the edges of my tone. "Can I come in?"

There’s no response. I press my ear to the door, listening for any sign that she's upset, any indication that our conversation has been overheard.

“Lara?” I ask again.

"Come in," she says reluctantly at last.

I push the door open and step inside, and there she stands—Lara, her dark eyes refusing to meet mine. Her hair is pulled back into a loose bun, a few tendrils framing her delicate face, and I can't help but take in the sight of her. But it's her expression that draws my attention; she looks like she doesn’t want me in the room.

"What is it?" she asks, her voice hesitant.

“You’ve never asked me that before,” I murmur. Usually, I’ve always been welcomed, and Lara’s never questioned my presence. In this moment, I know she overheard everything.

When her gaze lingers on me for a moment before glancing past me down the hallway toward Sofia's retreating form, I know I’m right in my suspicion. I close the door behind me.

“I think we should talk,” I state.

"Was that your sister? It sounded like you two were having an intense conversation," Lara tries to ignore the conversation I’m trying to have.

“Lara…” I say her name, trying to get her to focus.

I watch as Lara hesitates, her fingers gripping the edge of her coffee table with white-knuckled intensity. Her eyes are clouded with uncertainty and something akin to betrayal.

"I overheard you," she finally admits, her voice wavering. "I heard everything you said to Sofia."

My chest tightens, a mix of anger and guilt churning within me. My chest tightens as I realize how much this must be affecting her—the woman I vowed to protect.

Lara's words hang between us, heavy and fraught with tension. I can see the hurt in her eyes, the tightening of her jaw as she steels herself for my response.

But I have none.

Her lips part as if to say more, but she hesitates, clearly torn between confronting me and maintaining the fragile peace we've managed to build thus far.

"Lara," I say gently, walking over to stop the distance between us. The contact seems to startle her out of her thoughts, and she looks up at me, her eyes searching mine for answers I'm not prepared to give. "Please, let me explain.”

Her eyes flash with anger and hurt. "Do you take me for a fool, Dima? Did you think I wouldn't discover the truth?"

I close my eyes, cursing under my breath. There’s no denying the truth now, no more hiding behind a mask of pleasantries. The time for reckoning has come, and I have only myself to blame.

"You're right; I should have been honest with you from the start." I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. "I never meant to deceive you, Lara. I only wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" She laughs bitterly. "Or were you protecting your own interests? Marrying me to suit your own purposes, just like my brothers would do."

Her words cut like a knife, and I flinch at the accusation. She thinks me no better than her brothers.

“You treated me like a possession, a piece of property to claim, without ever giving me a choice in the matter. I thought I had to marry you. I thought there was no other way, Dima. All this while, and you knew you could get rid of Marv with just the flick of a wrist?”

Tears spring to her eyes, and I feel my heart being crushed within. The guilt of keeping this secret from her gnaws at me, screams at me the one simple fact that I’ve broken her trust.

I want to apologize, to tell her I was wrong, but I can’t bring myself to because admitting that is admitting that she might have the right not to want to be with me. That idea seems impossible to conceive, given how I can’t possibly imagine a life without her in it now.

"Is that what you think?" I ask instead, struggling to keep my voice level. "That this is all just some sort of game to me?"

"Isn't it?" Lara challenges, her eyes flashing with anger. "You're no different from them, controlling my life without giving me a say in it."

The comparison to her brothers makes my blood boil, and I have to remind myself that she is not the enemy here. She has every right to be upset, and I must acknowledge the validity of her feelings. After all, the blood boils at the stupid mistakes I made, not her.

She’s not wrong in comparing me to her brothers. From her perspective, there’s no difference between us. I get that now.

“You’re right,” I say at last. Lies won’t get us anywhere now. I never meant to be dishonest with her. Perhaps, I can try being honest now and put my money where my mouth is.

"Listen to me, Lara," I say softly. "Yes, I did some things that I'm not proud of, and I made decisions on your behalf. But it was never about treating you as a possession or claiming you. At least, I never realized it was until Sofia pointed it out.”

"Then what was it about?" she demands, her gaze unflinching.

"It was about wanting you," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "It was about being with you, given how, from the moment I met you, I was captivated by who you are. And yes, I went about it in ways that I now regret. But believe me when I say that I never realized where my intentions lay. I was lying to myself all this time, as you believe I was to you. I truly thought I was protecting you, Lara."

She sighs and finally looks into my eyes. This small gesture gives me the confidence to come as clean as I can.

"I don’t expect you to understand, but every decision I made was with your best interests at heart," I insist, though my words feel hollow even to me. "I thought it was the only way to keep you safe. By my side ," my last words come out in a whisper.

"Maybe that's true," she concedes, but her eyes still hold that glimmer of betrayal. "But it doesn't change the fact that you lied to me, Dima. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

I have no answer for her, no reassurances that can erase the damage I've done. The truth is, I don't know how to regain her trust—or if I even deserve it.

"Give me a chance to make things right," I plead, desperation seeping into my voice. "I'll do whatever it takes, Lara. Just give me a chance."

She parts her lips but holds back her words. I can see how conflicted she is, and I don’t blame her.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding as I face the wounded look in Lara's eyes. "Lara, I am truly sorry for what I've done," I say, my voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. "I never meant to hurt you or deceive you."

Her gaze remains fixed on me, her expression a mix of pain and defiance. She listens without interruption, but I can tell she is still guarded, still unsure whether or not to believe me.

"From now on, I promise to be completely honest with you," I continue, my determination evident in my tone. "I want to rebuild your trust, and I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

As I speak, I can see her resolve wavering, the hurt in her eyes gradually giving way to a flicker of hope. But there's still an undeniable distance between us—a divide created by my actions, one that may prove difficult to bridge.

"I don't know if I can trust you again, Dima," Lara admits, her voice soft and hesitant. "But I'm willing to try."

"Thank you," I murmur, relief washing over me. It's a start, at least—a small glimmer of hope amid the wreckage of our relationship.

"However, this doesn't change the fact that I want my independence," she adds, her spine straightening as she stands up for herself. "I need to know that I have control over my own life, even within the confines of our marriage."

I nod in understanding, acknowledging the validity of her concerns. "I'll respect your wishes, Lara. We'll work together to find a balance that allows you both freedom and safety. Let's take it one day at a time," I suggest, offering her a small, tentative smile.

"Alright," she agrees, yet her eyes meet mine with a hint of cautious pessimism. "One day at a time."

Although relieved, I know I’m going to have to do a lot more to win back her trust and true forgiveness.