Rough Exile

“I’m having a hard time believing that!” Ilya snapped, his jaw flexing and his fists balled in his lap.

“After everything… Do you really think I knew? I found out when you did, Ilyusha.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Bron hauled him up, steadying him on his feet and looking him in the eye.

“I didn’t know.” His voice was hoarse, and he stood there, staring into Ilya’s eyes as though willing him to believe it. “I didn’t know! What reason would I have to lie?”

“I don’t know. My mind doesn’t work the way yours does.”

“Even I wouldn’t do something this cruel.” His fingers curled into Ilya’s shirt, and he took a step closer. One of his hands slid up to Ilya’s neck and his thumb caressed his jaw.

Ilya leaned into the caress, his eyes closing as he relaxed and let it happen. A moment later, his eyes flew open, and he jerked back. He pushed Bron’s hands away.

“Stop.”

”Is it really wrong?” Bron stepped back, giving him space. He ran both hands over his short hair and laced his fingers behind his head as though trying to stop himself from touching Ilya again. He retreated further and leaned against the opposite wall.

“What do you mean?” Ilya demanded. “Of course it’s wrong!”

“We didn’t know, so there’s nothing wrong with what we did.” His throat bobbed as he searched Ilya’s face.

“You really didn’t know?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Bron grimaced. “Both of you believed that of me? I suppose I deserve that. I’m not the easiest man to live with.”

Ilya’s face was mottled, and his eyes were red, but he kept his head up. “Neither of us knew, so I suppose there is no point in being ashamed. Someone should have told us.”

“My mother always told me that my father was a stranger she’d met at a club. I never thought to doubt her.” Bron shrugged helplessly. “I came here all the time growing up, and no one said a word.”

“Our family likes its secrets and its exclusivity. Even as the son of Vas’s last wife, they always treated me as an outsider. I’m not surprised they did the same to you.” Ilya smiled tremulously. “So how does it feel to be our father’s favorite?”

“I would rather have you than know who my father is.”

“But now you will be rich.” Ilya clapped his hands once. “Rich, and in charge of managing the rest of us.”

Bron scrubbed his eyes with his palms. “If you don’t want me to take over from Vas, I won’t. I don’t know why he would pick me over the rest of you, anyway. I don’t know anything about business.”

“Vas will make sure you have people to help you with that.”

Bron made a dismissive gesture. “We can talk about that later. I want to know what this means for the three of us.”

Ilya frowned. “I’ll go back to the island. Delilah can spend half her time with me and half with you.”

“You’re going to ship me back and forth like a kid with divorced parents?” I snorted. “No. I don’t think so.”

“You’re not still thinking of leaving us.”

Ilya made a sound of frustration. “There is no us anymore. If having us by turns isn’t good enough for her, then she should be allowed to make that decision.”

“How would we explain why I’m here half the time with Bron while you stay home?”

“Considering the secrets this family keeps, I doubt anyone will care. I’m still the rejected brother, and no one will question Bron taking what he wants. My father always takes what he wants, and no one tells him no.”

“What if…” Bron chewed on his bottom lip. He blew out a breath. “What if we don’t let this change anything? What if the three of us continue our relationship? No one has to know.”

“We share the same father!”

“We weren’t raised as brothers. We don’t have brotherly feelings for each other, and we never have. So what if we share a father? It’s not like I can get you pregnant. What we do together is no one’s business and won’t affect anyone else.”

“But we will know! I can’t believe you’re suggesting this.”

“Why not? Why can’t we have this?” Bron cried, his voice desperate. “I can’t give you up. The two of you are the only people who matter to me in this world. I don’t care about Vas or his money, and I don’t care about the rest of his family. I can’t live without you.”

“No.”

“Ilya, please.”

“There is nothing more to say.”