Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Varlam
"Who gave her permission to leave?"
Brinny and I had just gotten back to the company when I spotted the desk—conspicuously empty. I'd been gone a few days, and Briony had already cleared out every trace of herself.
My chest locked up tight. She'd bolted from my bed once. Now she'd bolted from my office. Both times without a word, as if turning her back fast enough meant she didn't owe me an explanation.
"Varlam, don't go looking for her." I was about to track her down when Brinny stepped up and looped her arm through mine. "I sent her back to her old department. She said she hated being an assistant, so I made the call."
She said it lightly, like she'd just arranged a car for someone.
My jaw tightened.
The company, the bratva, everyone around me—any personnel move went through me first. Brinny knew I hated losing control, yet she'd gone over my head and yanked Briony out of my office anyway.
"You reassigned my assistant?"
"She's not yours." Brinny smiled, then seemed to catch herself. "I mean, she doesn't have to work only for you. She kept complaining about your schedule, your calls, all the last-minute crap you threw at her. She liked her old job better. If she's miserable, why not let her go back?"
Briony complained?
She used to set my coffee on the left when I'd been in back-to-back meetings—she'd noticed my right hand got clumsy when I was tired.
She hated when I changed plans on the fly and never let me off easy about it, but she'd never let a single meeting fall apart. And she'd never told me she wanted out.
"When did she tell you this?"
"We've talked a few times."
"A few times?"
Brinny blinked. Her smile faded. For a split second, I nearly reached for my phone. One order and Briony would be up here. I could ask her myself—did she really want to leave?
But before I could give the command, the elevator came crashing back.
The darkness. The freefall. Her body shaking against mine. She'd looked up at me, taken my kiss, breath breaking in my mouth, fingers locked in my shirt like I was the only thing that wouldn't drop when the cables snapped.
Then the doors opened. And I'd carried Brinny out, leaving her behind.
Pressure ground through my ribs. I had no right to be pissed she'd left. Worse—I didn't know what authority I even had to call her back. We'd crossed way past boss and employee.
I'd spent my whole life refusing gray areas. Enemies were enemies. Allies were allies. Betray me, pay the price. Obey me, get rewarded. But Briony had become the one zone I couldn't map—I wanted to own her, but I couldn't justify why I should.
Brinny was back. The woman I loved stood beside me again. Logic said I should clear every other woman out of my life.
Especially Briony.
But a few days ago, I'd almost taken her in that elevator. Around her, my control snapped like a burnt wire—one touch and it was gone. I wanted to hear her gasp, wanted that stubborn mouth soft under mine, wanted those defiant eyes locked on me and nowhere else.
The craving wasn't decent. And it sure as hell wasn't gentle.
"Varlam?" Brinny's voice pulled me back. "Are you angry?"
I refocused. She was watching me, tentative.
Of course I was angry. But I couldn't tell if it was at Briony for leaving, Brinny for overstepping, or myself—for feeling like someone had carved a piece out of me over one empty desk.
I hated losing control. Hated admitting some things had never been mine to control in the first place.
Maybe Briony made the right call. At least with distance, she wouldn't have to face me all day. And I could use the space to figure out what the hell I was thinking.
"Don't do it again," I told Brinny.
That was the softest version I had.
"Okay." She looked down, deflated.
But I didn't have it in me to comfort her. I stared at that empty desk, couldn't look away. Brinny noticed immediately.
"If you need someone, I can be your assistant. I learned a lot abroad—I can answer your calls, sit in on meetings. We'd be together all the time."
She made it sound easy, like an assistant just sat outside my door instead of coordinating across time zones and handling crises at three a.m.
Brinny wouldn't like that work. And I wouldn't put her through it.
Vigo had kept her under glass. She'd gotten everything she wanted since childhood. If she felt the slightest bit off, everyone around her practically stopped the world. Those delicate hands were made for champagne flutes, not running files between twenty floors.
"I don't need one."
"I can handle it."
"It's not about capability." I looked at her. "You don't need to do this. I can work without an assistant."
I pulled away and sat down. I had a backlog to get through.
But Brinny didn't move toward the couch. She stood there biting her lip, fingers twisting together, then releasing.
"What is it?"
"These past years, I've thought about a lot of things. I've been to a lot of places, met a lot of people. But no one ever cared for me the way you did." She came closer, eyes suddenly wet. "I still love you, Varlam."
My heart slammed once, heavy. I'd waited so long to hear that.
"I came back for you." She stopped beside me and took my hand off the desk. "I want to marry you."
I stared into those damp blue eyes. My throat closed.
Marriage. The word had become the memory I didn't dare touch. I hadn't forgotten—Brinny had dumped me before I could propose. She'd said my need to control her was suffocating. Years together, gone. And now she was holding my hand, handing me back the future that never happened.
I should say yes. This was what I'd always wanted. To marry someone I actually loved. Build a family with her.
The impulse hit my throat. That thing in my chest that hadn't beaten for hope in years started to ache. But the words stuck.
A wedding unfolded in my mind. Solemn church. Smiling guests. A woman on my arm, looking up at me. Brown eyes bright, mouth tipped in that challenging way—like even in a wedding dress, she was ready to argue.
The face belonged to Briony. In my fantasy, the woman beside me wasn't the one I'd once wanted to marry. It was Briony.
Absurd.
"Varlam?" Brinny's fingers tightened.
With Brinny, I'd always known what to do. Pull out her chair. Drape her coat over her shoulders. Watch her color, her breathing. Keep danger outside. Keep her from hurting. I'd followed that script for years.
"Say something. Please." Brinny's voice dropped, unease creeping into those blue eyes.
I wanted to say yes. Wanted to reassure her. Couldn't get it out.
"Is there a problem? You wanted to marry me before, didn't you?"
The question dragged me back years. I'd just taken over my father's organization. Danger everywhere. Every morning I woke checking if she was safe. Every night before sleep, same thing. I'd thought that was love. Protection. But I'd learned it was control.
I pulled my hand free. She froze.
"I can't. Not yet," I said. "I'm not ready."
"What do you mean you can't? Not ready?" The unease in those blue eyes ignited into fury. "Varlam, do you hear yourself?"
"Calm down."
"Calm down?" She laughed bitterly, tears spilling. "I came back for you. I told you I love you. I'm practically begging you to marry me. What else do you want from me?"
Her chest was heaving. Instinct kicked in—would she get sick? The habit was bone-deep. I stepped closer, motioning for her to sit. She slapped my hand away.
"Don't treat me like I'm sick! You think I'm not humiliated enough? You used to be the one who wanted marriage. You said you'd wait for me forever. Now I've thought it through, I'm here, and you tell me you're not ready?"
She was right. I'd been the one begging for an answer once.
"I'm not rejecting you. I just need time."
"You waited for me all these years, and now you need time?"
She stared at me, fury sharpening into scrutiny. Then her gaze slid past me to the empty assistant's desk.
"It's because of her." Like a light had switched on.
My chest dropped.
"You're in love with Briony, aren't you?" Brinny turned back, mouth a hard line.
The name hit like a punch.
Briony's eyes. Her breathing. All of it flooded my head.
"No." I finally spoke. My voice came out steadier than I felt.
"You're lying." Brinny had heard the pause.
I'd heard it too.
"I'm not."
I loved Brinny. Hearing Briony's name felt wrong because Brinny was accusing me. Any man would be pissed getting questioned like this. No one liked having their feelings defined by someone else.
Had to be that.
"Then say yes," Brinny said.
I looked at her. Still couldn't.
The last flicker of hope died in her eyes. "Perfect. Just perfect."
"Brin."
"Don't."
She turned and headed for the door. I could stop her—one hand on her wrist, demand she sit down, demand she talk this through, don't leave angry.
But the old words echoed back.
"Your need to own me is suffocating."
I stayed where I was.
Brinny opened the door. Hallway light fell across her rigid spine. She didn't look back. Her ash-blond hair swung with each step, a swan too proud to admit it was hurt.
I watched her disappear.
This shouldn't be happening. I'd promised I wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't let her suffer. I'd protect her. She came back, said she still loved me, offered to marry me. I should've gotten the ending I'd waited years for. But it didn't feel like victory.
All I could think about was Briony. Maybe she was sitting on another floor right now, back to her old life, like I'd never crashed into it at all.
Heat flared in my lungs.
I controlled the most dangerous underground order in this city. But I couldn't keep one woman. Couldn't figure out why another had moved into my head.
Damn it. My fist slammed the desk. The old injury in my right pinkie flared, numb with pain.
Brinny's question still rang in my ears.
You're in love with Briony, aren't you?