Page 98 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

“Convenient?” Vera speaks up for the first time. Her voice is clear and steady. “I was abducted from my home and forced to stand at an altar next to a man I didn’t choose. Roman saved me, because he gave me a choice when no one else would. He was forced to marry me to keep me safe. It’s what Dmitri would have wanted.”

Smart woman. I don’t give a shit what Dmitri would have wanted, of course, but she’s playing them right into her hands. Using the Bratva poster child to sway their judgment. I expect nothing less from a woman as incredible as Vera.

She turns to face the council, her gaze sweeping across each of them.

“I know how this world works. I know that women are often treated as commodities to be traded and bargained for, but I also know that Roman sees me as more than that. He sees me as a partner. Regardless of how we got here, that’s something worth fighting for.”

The room is silent. Even Anton seems momentarily taken aback by her words.

I let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again.

“The council has a choice,” I say. “You can continue to support a man who attacks his own people, or you can support me. Someone who has proven his loyalty and his capability. Someone who will lead this family into the future instead of dragging it back to the past.”

Pavel exchanges glances with the other elders. I can see the calculations happening behind their eyes.

“There is one more matter to consider,” Pavel says finally. “Dmitri’s ledger. It contains information that could damage all of us if it falls into the wrong hands.”

“I’m aware of the ledger,” I say. “I’m working on recovering it. It has information that I’d like to see, too.”

Information that will prove what a snake Konstantin really is.

“Working on it?” Anton sneers. “You don’t even know where it is.”

“I know more than you think.” I let the implication hang. “When I find it, I’ll use it to strengthen this family, not tear it apart.”

Anton opens his mouth to respond, but Konstantin raises a hand. The room falls silent.

“My son has made his case,” Konstantin says. His voice is measured, careful. “As has Anton.”

One of the elders leans forward, fingers steepled. “Ordinarily, we would take time to review the evidence and decide how to proceed. However, Anton, you know that attacking one of our own is a most serious offense.”

Anton winces, but he meets the elder’s gaze. “This so-called evidence is⁠—”

“Enough. The council will now vote on whether Anton Grishin is considered guilty, and whether he will be allowed to remain successor to Dmitri Volkonsky.”

The voting is quick. One by one, the elders raise their hands. Some look apologetic as they cast their lot with me. Others look resigned. In the end, the count is clear.

Anton has lost.

He stands slowly, his face pale with fury. “This isn’t over,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

“I’m counting on it,” I reply.

He turns and strides toward the door, his men trailing behind him. At the threshold, he pauses and looks back. His eyes meet mine, and I see the promise of violence in them.

Whatever comes next, he intends to make me bleed for this.

The door closes behind him, and the room exhales.

Pavel rises from his seat. “The council recognizes Roman Volkonsky as the rightful successor to Dmitri Volkonsky’s territory and holdings. May he lead with wisdom and strength.”

The words are a formality, but they carry weight. I’ve won this battle, but the war is far from over.

I turn to Vera. Her eyes are bright, her expression a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Let’s go home,” I say.

She nods.