Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I nod. “Yeah, and I’ll ask my uncle too. Did you find any more clothes?”
She points to a small pile on the dresser.
“I did.” Folding her arms over her chest, she gives me a curious look.
“And? Are you going to get changed so you can join us, or what?”
“I told you,” she says stubbornly, her eyes hard. “I’m not coming.”
I step toward her, my voice deep and commanding. My patience is at an all-time low. I thought I already made it very clear that this bullshit won’t fly with me. I take a step closer, my voice dropping to a growl. “You’re coming with me, Anissa. This isn’t a negotiation.” Her defiance burns in her eyes, that fire I crave and want to crush. She straightens, challenging me. God, I fucking love that about her even as I want to shake her.
“No, I’m not.”
I let out a slow breath, moving closer. “This isn’t a debate. You get dressed and get your ass out there for dinner before I carry you there myself.”
I don’t have time for this.
Her eyes flare, but I see her hesitate. She knows I don’t bluff, and it matters to her to save face. “You can’t just—”
“I can and will,” I growl, my hand brushing her arm as I lean in. “If you think I’m going to let you sit here alone while god knows what happens, you’re wrong. You’re a part of this family now.”
She’s infuriating.
When she opens her mouth to argue, I cut her off. “If you don’t get changed, I swear to god I’ll put you over my knee and make sure you regret it. Or,” I lower my voice, the edge softening but still unyielding, “you can get dressed, come with me, and we’ll handle this together. Your choice.”
Her defiance wavers, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she blows out a frustrated breath. “You really are the beast with all his bluster.”
I shrug, unapologetic. “If the shoe fits.”
“Fine,” she mutters, turning toward the dresser, strategically placing distance between me and her.
I can’t force her into compliance. I can’t force her to like me. Hell, I don’t need her to. But I’ll make damn sure she stays safe, even if she hates me for it. I’ll protect her with everything I have because as much as I want to control her, I’m terrified of losing her.
“You’ll stay with me when I question my uncle and cousin.”
Chapter 26
“ANISSA”
Dinner is a tense affair. After showing Rafail the picture, I braced myself for questions. For something. But all I got was confusion… no answers. The look he gave me when he saw me with my brothers though… like I’d betrayed him… like something vital had died between us. I hate that look. I hate that it feels like I’m falling apart.
Still, despite the tension between us, we do our best to pretend things are fine for the sake of appearances. We exchange polite words and smiles.
“This looks delicious,” I tell Zoya.
“Believe it or not, Rodion made the rice,” she says, looking as surprised as I am.
“Hey,” he says. “I know how to cook.”
We share a look behind his back. Grandfather pronounces it the best meal he’s ever had in confinement, and while the rest of them laugh, I can’t help but wonder when else he’s been confined. Is he joking?
Still, it’s strained between Rafail and me, and, I don’t know, the tension is palpable.
“Is Gleb still sleeping?” Rafail hasn’t broached any questions, but I suspect he’s waiting until we eat first. This could get ugly. For once, I’m happy to follow his lead on something.
A part of me doesn’t want to know the truth, and I hate that.
As the others chat, the tension between Rafail and me simmers, unspoken. I’m hyperaware of his presence, yet I feel like we’re worlds apart.
Zoya seems to notice that something’s off. The little furrow between her brow deepens, and she looks from me to Rafail, but she keeps quiet. Rodion, on the other hand, isn’t so demure. His gaze goes from me to Rafail and back again.
“What’s going on?” he asks bluntly. “Something’s wrong with you two. Spill.”
Oh, for crying out loud—
I bite down hard, trying to swallow the rush of panic, and grip my fork, trying to appear normal. I don’t want to get into it. If he keeps pushing, I might have to admit what I don’t want to—I’m totally in over my head.
“Drop it, Rodion,” I warn, my words sharper than I intended.
Naturally, he doesn’t take the hint. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re both acting like someone died.” He leans back and pushes harder. “You’re like parents trying to pretend they didn’t have a fight in front of their kids.”
Argh.
I want to shake him. I open my mouth to retort when Rafail leans in close, his voice lowering. “She said drop it.” Yikes. It’s not good when he lowers his voice.