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)
I don’t know what shocks me more—his words or the certainty with which he says them. It’s not even a question; he speaks it as if it’s a simple fact. And yet, beneath the icy detachment in his tone, there’s a hint of something… something I hadn’t expected. For one fleeting moment, I wonder if I’ve misjudged him.
But then, as he straightens, the mask snaps back into place. His next words are clipped, unyielding. "You’re going to pay for this," he says, shaking his head.
The fire in my chest roars back to life. His gaze locks on Stefan, cold and calculating, like a headmaster sizing up a defiant student. "But I won’t have any loose ends—or liabilities. You’ll come with us," Semyon says to Stefan. “You will not run. You will not disrespect my family. You will come, and your sister will take care of you in our home. Is that clear?"
I blink, stunned by his words, my breath catching in my throat. "Wait—Stefan’s coming with us?" I ask aloud, unable to hide my shock.
Ophelia gasps. Semyon and I both look over at her. We forgot she was there.
Semyon’s ice-blue eyes meet mine, unwavering. "This wasn’t part of my plan either," he admits. "But it was an oversight. I should have done a background check. And don’t even ask me about your father." His lip curls in disdain. "That man can drown in his own piss for all I care."
"Me too," I murmur. For a brief moment, our eyes meet in unexpected solidarity—a fleeting connection that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.
"Just so we’re clear… he can live with us?" I ask, disbelief thick in my voice.
Semyon’s gaze doesn’t falter. "Do you think I would leave him here with that deadbeat father of yours?" He shakes his head. "I thought your brother was in school. I didn’t know you’d been taking care of him all this time. I don’t tolerate weakness, Anya, but I’m not a monster."
Conflicting emotions churn within me: anger at his arrogance, confusion at this unexpected act of kindness, and an unsettling sense of gratitude. Is this truly kindness? Or is it just another calculated move, another piece on the chessboard that will eventually lead to my downfall?
No…
Semyon doesn’t love. He doesn’t choke on kindness. This is just another move to keep me occupied.
My brother, Stefan, in that cold mansion? Yes, I can make sure he’s well-fed, that his clothes aren’t threadbare, and his socks don’t have holes in them. We’ll have adequate light to do homework, and I won’t have to worry about the heat being shut off.
But Stefan is headstrong, and I fear what will happen to him under Semyon’s cold fury.
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say? “No, I don’t want my brother subjected to your severity—I’d rather he starve to death or wonder if our drunken father will backhand him?” Yeah, no.
Ophelia stares at Semyon, then at Stefan, and back to me. “I don’t know about you,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “but I think this might work out pretty well for both of you.”
“It definitely won’t,” Semyon says, his voice cold and precise.
Ophelia’s eyes widen. She looks at him, unable to hide her fear, then backtracks awkwardly. “Oh, I didn’t mean you two. I meant… them.” She gestures between Stefan and me. “Those two.”
Her voice falters, and she tilts her head to the side with a forced smile. “Semyon, have you tried these delicious baked goods?” she asks, gesturing wildly at the half-open pastry case.
I want to bury my head in my hands. Semyon’s eyes narrow into slits, and he actually lets out a low growl—a real growl, like an animal.
“You two,” he snaps, pointing at Stefan and me, “get in the fucking car outside.” Then he turns to Ophelia. “And you—go home. Do not contact my wife without my permission again.”
Ophelia’s face flushes with justified outrage, but I silently will her to stop provoking him before he snaps.
“Just do what he says for now, okay?” I mutter.
“Not for now,” Semyon cuts in, his voice sharp. “Do what I say. Period.”
I step closer to Ophelia and whisper, “I’ll call you later. Thank you.”
She hesitates but nods before retreating, muttering under her breath as she marches to the door.
“I’m not going with him,” Stefan says stubbornly, his small shoulders squaring as he glares up at Semyon. “Someone has to be home when… when Eli comes back.” He trails off, his voice faltering.
“Eli isn’t coming back,” Semyon says coldly. “And I’m out of patience. It’s the middle of the night, Stefan.” Semyon’s voice softens. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”
Stefan flinches but says nothing.
“Your sister and I will set rules for your time in my house. We’ll discuss them after everyone’s had some sleep. For now, gather your belongings and go with Anya to the car.”