Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Rafail jerks his head to the corner of the room. “Kitchen. Before you see them, we have to have a little talk. What the hell are you two playing with, Rodion?”
I haven’t heard this tone of voice since I was a fucking child.
“What are you talking about?”
Oh, shit.
Maybe they found my social media account. If they found my account, I’m fucking screwed. But then… why are they looking at Ember as if she’s the enemy?
Rafail shifts, tucking his hands in his pockets, but it doesn’t make him look more casual, just more calculating. He and Semyon share a knowing look.
What the fuck?
“I didn’t know you allowed her to post videos online about us,” Rafail says.
What?
“What are you talking about?”
Semyon pulls out a tablet and taps a few buttons. Are they really going to give her shit about having a book account about mafia men? Those are fiction. They should know—
Oh no.
I stare at the video, cold awareness curling in my gut.
Jesus.
“When did you take that video, Ember?” I ask, my grip on her tightening. I’m careful not to hurt her, even though I want to shake her.
It’s her on the plane, holding a book up. On our plane.
“Where was I?”
It’s a viral post, with thousands of messages and millions of views coming in as we speak. Damning. Incriminating.
“I don’t know what happened,” she says, shaking her head. Even though her eyes are wide with fear, her voice is tinged with the ferocity I love about her.
Get it, girl.
“Yes, I have an account, but it has nothing to do with you. It’s about romance books. I post about fiction, not you guys. I don’t even know who you are.”
“Look at this,” Rafail says, obviously seething as he points to a corner of the screen.
Ember’s hand covers her mouth. I don’t say anything at first, as I’m trying to stay calm.
“I asked you a question, Ember. When?”
“On the plane, you got up to talk to the flight crew, and I took the opportunity to post a quick video.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t post quick videos,” Rafail snaps. I hate the way he chides her as if it’s his fucking place. My hands ball at my sides. “Maybe you should take the time to edit them before you fucking post.”
I take a step toward him. How fucking dare he. “Maybe you should shut the—” I clamp my mouth shut at the searing glare he sends me, just as Semyon snaps, “Rodion.”
I can’t lose my shit, not here, not now, not with my brother the pakhan.
Ember’s eyes flash at my brothers, and her nostrils flare. “I didn’t even know the Bratva was fucking real until like two weeks ago, so excuse me for not knowing I couldn’t take a video on a plane I was invited on.” She turns to me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You know me. You know I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you or your family.”
Rafail jabs a finger at the video.
Right in the corner of the screen are all the details—a crest in the background with our family name. The caption suggests Bratva themes, and the whole thing maybe could’ve been shrugged off as fictional, if not for the comment section.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper, shaking my head. No.
Someone looked it all up and posted all our information for the whole damn world to see. It’s the top comment.
“Delete it,” I snap, but she’s already on it, her hands shaking as she unlocks her phone and pulls it up.
“It’s gone,” she whispers, not voicing what all of us are thinking: deleting the post doesn’t remove the screenshots or views. The leak is out there, and there’s no taking it back.
“I didn’t know. I had no idea. I thought I was just taking a video for my account. It’s part of my income, you know? I need to keep posting, and I haven’t posted in days. I had no idea you guys would have information on the plane that would identify you. I didn’t mean—”
“To mock our family?” Rafail snaps. “To make us the laughing stock of—”
“Rafail.”
I step between Ember and him. I never wanted to have to choose between my family and Ember, and I don’t want to have to now.
“Stop. She didn’t mean it. It was a harmless accident. This is what she does, and she didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s not harmless.” His nostrils flare. “This has gone wider than you know. We have to talk to you alone, Rodion.” His voice sets my nerves on edge.
What the hell happened?
“Fine, but no one touches her,” I warn, steel in my voice. “If one fucking hair on her head is harmed, you’ll answer to me.”
Rafail’s brows rise. Semyon whistles under his breath, and Matvei silently makes the sign of the cross.
Rafail narrows his eyes on me. “Your sisters are in the kitchen. Bring Ember there while we talk.”