Page 42 of Never Distract a Biker

When she picks one, it turns out to be her own: romance. Yelena groans loudly, and Alina spends another ten minutes deciding which film we will watch.

As the movie begins, Yelena’s irritation is palpable. She mutters sarcastic remarks under her breath, her disdain for the genre evident.

"You’re rolling your eyes so hard, I’m worried they’ll get stuck," I tease, earning a chuckle from Alina.

"It’s just so unrealistic," Yelena retorts, gesturing at the screen. "Nobody falls in love like that."

"Do you have something against love?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"No," she replies. "I just don’t buy the fairy tale nonsense."

I lean back against the plush seat, the warmth of my ginger tea soothing my stomach as I glance at Yelena. Her irritation over the movie is almost comical, her sharp comments punctuating every romantic scene.

"Unrealistic," she mutters as the male lead professes his undying love within thirty minutes of meeting the heroine. "No man says things like that unless he’s trying to scam you."

"Wow," I reply, turning to her. "You’re jaded, aren’t you?"

She raises an eyebrow, not missing a beat. "I prefer ‘realistic.’ Romance isn’t sunshine and roses, Scarlett. It’s messy and complicated, and in our world, it’s transactional."

Alina sighs beside her twin, giving me a small smile. "Don’t mind her. She’s always been like this. Our brother would say the same thing."

Her words make me pause, and Viktor’s face flickers in my mind. His gruff demeanor and commanding presence are so far removed from the idealistic notion of love in this movie. "I don’t think all love is fake," I say, my voice quieter now.

Yelena scoffs but doesn’t argue further. Instead, she turns back to the screen, her arms crossed.

But I insist, my voice firm. "I’ve seen it. My parents had it."

Alina perks up, her curiosity evident. "Really? What were they like?"

I smile softly, memories flooding back. "They were inseparable. Mom used to joke that Dad couldn’t tie his shoes without her. He was her rock, and she was his light. Even when things got tough, they always found their way back to each other."

Yelena’s expression softens slightly, though she tries to hide it. "We were too young to remember our parents together," she says after a moment. "And Bratva men ... they don’t exactly do love."

Her words bring Viktor back to my mind, his hard exterior and the storm that always seems to follow him. I shake the thought away, focusing on my parents instead.

"I still believe in marrying for love," Alina says suddenly, her voice filled with quiet conviction.

Yelena lets out a dry laugh. "And how do you think that’s going to work, Alina? Women like us don’t get to choose. Marriages are alliances, not fairy tales. We’re pawns in a bigger game."

The bluntness of her words sends a chill down my spine. I glance at Alina, whose hopeful expression falters slightly. The tension between the twins is palpable, their opposing views clashing like thunder and lightning.

"Is that what you believe?" I ask Yelena, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

She shrugs, her gaze unwavering. "It’s not about belief, Scarlett. It’s reality. You’re lucky you’re not part of this world."

Yelena leans back in her chair, her tone casual as she drops a bombshell. "Before our father’s assassination, he was negotiating with the leader of the Greek mob to marry me off to his son."

I sit up straighter, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. "Wait—what? Would you have gone through with it?"

The surprise and confusion in my voice must look comical because Yelena chuckles, shaking her head. "I would’ve had no choice," she says. "And I had hoped Viktor would reopen the negotiations."

"Reopen them?" I echo, my disbelief mounting. "You’re okay with that?"

Her nonchalant shrug is infuriating. "It’s what’s expected of us. Besides, I’d rather marry strategically than end up with some useless idiot who can’t even hold a gun."

Her words make my stomach churn. I’ve known for a while now that Viktor’s world is different—darker, more ruthless—but hearing Yelena talk about marriage as a business deal drives it home in a way that feels personal.

"If I have a daughter," I say slowly caressing my tummy, my voice steady despite the fire burning inside me, "no one will use her as a bargaining chip. She won’t be a pawn in anyone’s game."

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