Page 79 of Scarlet Thorns

“What about Anett?” Radimir pushes, apparently immune to the warning in my voice. “She could give you a kid. Hell, she’s been trying to trap you with one for months.”

“No fucking chance. The stupidsukadoesn’t know when to leave.”

“So maybe let her stick around, have a kid, then get rid of her.” Radimir won’t let it go.

“Are you deaf,mudak?” I bark. “I said I don’t fucking want her around!”

I’m about to stand up and kick my brothers’ asses for being pricks when the door opens without warning.

Anett appears in the doorway like a bad omen, her face flushed with anger and something that looks like betrayal. She’s wearing a skin-tight dress that screams desperation, and from the way she’s swaying slightly, she’s been drinking.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The three brothers having a little family meeting. How sweet that I wasn’t invited.”

Blyad.

How long has she been outside? How much did she hear?

“Anett,” I say keeping my tone calm, “what are you doing here?”

“I live here, remember?” She moves into the room with calculated precision, every step designed to draw attention. “At least, I thought I did. But apparently, I’m not welcome at family gatherings anymore.”

The truth is, I haven’t even thought about Anett since our last argument. Aside from the occasional slamming door or revved engine, she may as well not have even been here. Thank fuck. I’d expected her to get on my case about marriage again.Maybe she’s just regrouping. I can’t say I’m unhappy about it. I haven’t missed her presence, her demands, her constant need for attention. Since Ilona moved in, Anett has become background noise— something I was supposed to deal with but kept putting off.

“So?” Her voice is sharp. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”

“This was last-minute,” I say, but even to my own ears, the excuse sounds weak. Why the fuck do I even feel obligated to excuse myself?

“Last-minute.” She laughs, bitterly. “Why don’t you just admit you just didn’t want me around.”

“Fine. I didn’t want you around,” I confirm coldly. I can’t understand why she hasn’t figured this out yet.

My brothers tense, sensing the shift in atmosphere. Melor and Radimir exchange glances, suddenly sober enough to recognize danger.

“I think it’s best we leave,bratok,” Melor says, standing with careful dignity; not easy since he’s swaying on his feet. “This looks like a private conversation.”

“Don’t leave on my account,” Anett says, moving to my liquor cabinet and pouring herself vodka with hands that shake slightly. “I’m sure you boys were having such an interesting discussion about what an inconvenience I am.”

She takes a long swig directly from the bottle, and I feel my temper beginning to fray. The alcohol, the conversation about Galina, the way she’s trying to embarrass me in front of my brothers— it’s all adding up to an explosion I’m not sure I can control.

“Anett, that’s enough.”

“Is it?” She turns to face me, eyes blazing with hurt and fury. “Because I don’t think it is. I think we’re just getting started.”

My brothers haul ass out of there, grabbing their jackets and heading for the door with the speed of men who recognize when they’re about to witness something ugly.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Radimir says as they leave, but I barely hear him. All my attention is focused on the woman standing in my living room, holding my vodka like a weapon.

The door closes behind them with a finality that makes my chest tight. Now it’s just me and Anett, and the weight of everything I’ve been avoiding for weeks.

“Where have you been?” I ask, genuinely curious, though I definitely haven’t missed her.

“Working,” she says bitterly. “Some of us have jobs, you know.”

“You’re a model, Anett. You work maybe ten hours a week.”

“And you’re a restaurant owner who could easily afford to move me in full time, yet you continue to fight it.”

“Fight what, Anett? I told you to find a place of your own.”