Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“What were you thinking? You can’t run away like that and in the freezer?” My voice cracks, fear cutting through my anger. “Don’t you know what could’ve happened if I didn’t find you?”
“I didn’t lock it,” he mutters, lifting his chin with false bravado. For a moment, he looks like our oldest brother—the arrogance is the same, that’s for sure.
“Do you know what would’ve happened if the wrong person caught you?” I press, my words coming out sharper than I intended.
His eyes widen, guilt shadowing his expression. “I just wanted to come find you,” he whispers. “I thought… I thought eventually you’d come back here. I only stepped into the freezer just now. I didn’t want anyone to see me—I thought it might be him. You know, your new husband.”
“You thought wrong,” I snap, pulling him into a fierce hug, holding him tightly for a moment before shaking him again. “You should’ve stayed hidden, and you should’ve never gone in that freezer. Don’t you ever go in there again, Stefan.”
The door to the shop jingles open. Moments later, heavy footsteps fall. My stomach drops, tightening into a knot.
I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
Semyon’s imposing shadow spills into the light of the doorway as he steps inside. His icy-blue eyes burn with fury, and his jaw is clenched tight. He looks as if he’s been carved from stone—his face rigid and controlled, every line etched with precision. But I can feel the storm beneath his surface. He’s barely hanging on to his self-control.
“You thought you could leave without telling me?” His voice is low, calm, far more dangerous than if he’d yelled. I understand now why people fear him when his voice lowers.
My instincts roar to life, and I shove my brother behind me. “I’m not leaving him here,” I snap.
Ophelia, standing behind me, makes a little squeaking sound and curses under her breath. I can feel Stefan trembling as he clutches my arm, but I don’t move.
“He needs me,” I say firmly.
Semyon’s gaze flicks to Stefan and then back to me, a glimpse of something—surprise?—crossing his face.
“Who?” he asks, his tone colder than ice.
“Stefan. My younger brother,” I reply, my voice steady despite the lump rising in my throat. “Who do you think?”
For a moment, Semyon’s expression is unreadable. Then he speaks, blunt as ever. “I thought you came here to find another man.”
“Another man? What are you talking about?”
His eyes dart away, and for an instant, I think I see something like shame in his expression. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by the cold, calculated mask that always makes my skin crawl.
“You were forbidden from leaving,” he says, stepping closer, his words snapping like a whip. “And at the first opportunity, that’s what you did.”
“Ophelia couldn’t find my brother!” I protest.
Semyon steps even closer, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He crooks a finger, his command sharp and precise. “Come here,” he orders.
I instinctively take a step forward, but he shakes his head.
“No, Anya. Not you.”
Panic rises in my chest. Oh god. Stefan?
Before I can stop him, Stefan steps out from behind me, standing straight. There’s a flash of arrogance in his expression, the same kind our oldest brother used to wear like armor.
Semyon’s eyes widen, just slightly, before narrowing again. “And this is…”
“Stefan,” I reply quickly, stepping forward protectively.
“I knew you had a brother,” he says coolly, his voice like steel. “Because your other brother owes us four million, Anya.”
“You didn’t know I had a younger brother?”
"My records say your brother is in a boarding school, sent there by your uncle," Semyon says, his tone flat.
"Well, maybe it’s time you update your records," I snap. "My brother hasn’t been in that school for over two years—not since my father spent the tuition money."
Semyon’s expression softens, his voice dropping. "I’m sorry," he says quietly. "I had no idea you have a younger brother at home. You should have told me."
He shakes his head, the faintest trace of frustration flickering across his face.
"You should’ve come to me," he continues. "You should’ve told me why you were leaving. I would’ve brought you here safely instead of…" He gestures vaguely at me. "This wreck of a situation."
His eyes sharpen as his voice hardens. "Your life belongs to me now, Anya."
Stefan’s eyes flash with defiance as he steps forward, his small fists clenched. "You can’t own someone’s life," he says, his voice trembling but firm.
Semyon’s icy gaze snaps to him, narrowing. "Watch your tone, boy," he warns. Instinctively, I pull Stefan closer, wrapping my arms protectively around him.
"He’s right," I say, my voice steady despite the tightening in my chest. "You don’t own me. I won’t let Stefan think this is how things work—that this is normal. I owe him more than that."
Semyon’s lips twitch into a faint, almost amused smile, baring his teeth. "Don’t I?" he murmurs, his voice a low growl.