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 can’t help but look into the living room, past the peeling wallpaper and stack of dishes in the sink I haven’t done yet, to where my father is slumped in a chair with an empty bottle of vodka.
He’s not helping with homework tonight.
“Where’s Eli?”
“Who knows,” I mutter, shaking my head, and bite my lip before I blurt out who cares? Eli can go fuck himself for all I care. He’s become no more than a younger carbon copy of my dad. I don’t say that out loud though. Stefan hero-worships him.
Stefan crosses his arms over his chest. “He knows how to do this.”
“Well, he’s not here,” I snap, pushing to my feet as guilt gnaws at me. It’s not his fault. I turn to him and squeeze his shoulder. At only eight years old, it isn’t his fault.
I sigh. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I brought you cookies home from the bakery.”
His eyes light up. “Chocolate?”
“Mmm. Keep working on the rest of the problems. Sometimes, you have to leave the part you can’t solve and work on what you can.” Before I turn to the dishes, I take the white paper sack and put it in front of him. “Here. Maybe this will help your concentration.”
He grins, forgiving me for my short temper, as he gleefully plucks a cookie out of the bag and takes a massive bite, crumbs flying everywhere. I sigh and walk to the washing machine. I’ll toss in a load of laundry and let that run while I tackle the dishes.
My father mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. I look at him curiously. I swear I heard something like, “Take her.”
Take who?
The remnants of my paycheck sit on the counter, stretched thin between rent, food, and clothes for Stefan. I’m lucky enough that I can still fit in my mother’s old clothes, but I swear Stefan grows an inch a day.
I grab the load of clean towels out of the dryer and pile them in a basket. I draw in a cleansing breath and release it. A stolen moment of quiet. I need to put Stefan to bed soon so I can get to bed myself. Four o’clock comes way too soon.
Where is Eli? He said he’d be by the bakery before close, but he never showed. He’s been vanishing for hours lately, sometimes days, and always comes back apologetic and exhausted. I half expected him to be here with my father, throwing back the vodka, but the silence feels heavier than usual.
Something is wrong. Very wrong.
I frown, staring down at the basket of laundry. Eli’s clothes are in a basket of his own since I won’t do his. I shove it out of the way when something clatters to the floor.
I stare at it as the hair on the back of my neck pricks. It’s Eli’s mobile.
Something’s… not right about this. I pick it up, holding my breath. Eli never leaves his cell phone behind.
“Anya! Did you want the other cookie?”
“Take it,” I mumble absentmindedly as I lift the phone.
Why did he leave this? It makes no sense…
I type in his birthday and see it spring to life. Predictable. I frown at the blinking battery—almost dead—and plug it into a charger in the corner of the tiny laundry room.
There are thirteen unread text messages and as many missed calls. A chill skates down my spine when I see the name Semyon.
My stomach churns as I scroll through them. It doesn’t make sense. If Eli left, why hasn’t he tried to contact me? Or is it because… he can’t?
I stare at the name on the screen again.
Semyon Kopolov.
My brother’s best friend. My mortal enemy. The man who destroyed my family and is responsible for my mother’s death.
My vision blurs. My fingers tremble. I shouldn’t open it. I should throw this damn phone across the room and smash it all to hell.
And yet, with a breath I can’t seem to catch, I click on the messages.
Semyon
Four fucking million. I don’t give second chances. I’m coming to collect.
Semyon
You betrayed us. I won’t forgive that.
Semyon
Pay up or I’ll take more than the bakery. You won’t like what’s left
I stare, my chest tightening, the words sinking in like a blow. More than the bakery?
What the hell else could he take? We don’t have anything left—just this crumbling apartment, a failing business, and each other. My heart pounds with fury. Semyon knew Eli couldn’t pay him back, and he let it spiral until it reached this point.
He planned this. And now my family is caught in the crosshairs.
I tuck the phone in my pocket as my heart aches. Elizar pisses me off, but he’s my brother. I have no idea where he is, but based on the fact that he left his phone here, I can only assume he ran.
Unless he’s hurt…