Page 82 of Prince of Control

We pull up and park in front of Baranov House, but Baron doesn’t move to get out.

He shuts off the engine. “Lara…I want to answer your question. The one you asked the other night that I dodged. About why you’re really here.”

I brace myself as my pulse picks up speed. What could it be? What use could they have for me? Or what trouble is my dad in?

What in the hell is going on, and why am I their pawn?

“My dad asked me to marry you to keep you safe.”

I blink at him. That doesn’t make sense. His dad is the threat. The one whose threats made us unsafe.

“I don’t understand.”

Baron opens his mouth but then looks past me through the window. His face transforms into a look of dark rage.

“Blyad’,” he swears and throws open the door.

I twist to look out the window. It takes me a breath for my brain to catch up to what my eyes see. Or at least to process it.

Brash Rostov is here. He’s here, reaching to open my door.

I freeze for a moment. Is he here for me? I remember Baron saying he knew Brash from boarding school. Is this about something between the two of them?

My door swings open, and I hear Baron snarl, “Get away from my wife.”

Brash reaches in and unbuckles my seatbelt, dropping a light kiss on my cheek when he leans in.

I jerk away, confused. “Brash, what are you doing here? I told you not to come.”

Baron grabs Brash’s shoulder and yanks him back.

Brash whirls and punches Baron, who ducks and delivers a left jab to Brash’s gut.

“Don’t move!” several voices boom in Russian at the same time a flood of men carrying automatic rifles swarm around the two men.

“Bozhe moi! Stop!” I jump out of the car.

My fear is all for Baron, but I’m annoyed with him too. Why does he have to be so damn possessive?

Brash’s upper lip lifts in a snarl, but he ignores Baron and turns to look at me. “Lara, you can forget this marriage entirely. You don’t have to give up your studies and your apartment and everything you loved in Paris and let these thugs orchestrate your life.”

My chest tightens. “Brash, I told you not to come.” I try to look past him at Baron. Brash keeps his body between mine and Baron’s. I suppose he thinks he’s protecting me. They both do. It would be sweet if it weren’t so stupid. I don’t need rescuing.

“Do you know why you had to marry him?” Brash jerks his thumb derisively at Baron.

I try to seek Baron’s eye again, but he doesn’t at me; he’s just glaring murderously at Brash.

I shouldn’t have to explain this to Brash. He has greatly overstepped. “I told you, our parents arranged it when we were children. My life is with Baron now. I’ve accepted it.”

Well, maybe not the life, but I’ve accepted Baron.

“It was because of me,” Brash snarls.

I draw my brows together. Of all the arrogant, narcissistic things to say.

Except I finally catch Baron’s gaze, and he looks furious. Like Brash just revealed a truth he didn’t want told.

Like… it might be true.