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 wrap it around me, cinch it at the waist, and quickly run out to check on Stefan. I feel like I’ve abandoned my baby brother to the wolves. My stomach twists. Where is he? What has Semyon done? What would he do?
He brought me here last night to keep Stefan safe. He wouldn’t hurt him… would he? But Semyon has implacable rules, and Stefan is a wild, reckless little boy.
I sprint down the hall, my bare feet hitting the hardwood as I fling open Stefan’s door. The bed is unmade, the sheets rumpled and tossed aside as if he left in a hurry. His clothes from last night lay in a pile on the floor, haphazard and careless, just like he always leaves them. He’s just a little boy.
What have I gotten my brother into?
My chest tightens when I hear voices downstairs. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I have to stay calm. Why am I panicking?
Maybe because my entire life was put at risk? I was forced to marry a man I hate, and now my little brother is caught in the mix. Yeah, no big deal.
I roll my eyes heavenward. I wish Ophelia were here.
I walk downstairs. From here, I can see the huge expanse of his house—sleek, modern, and impossibly large, like something out of a magazine. But the sight that greets me freezes me in place.
Stefan sits on the other side of the open doorway, swinging his legs at the table, sipping something from a cup. Semyon sits across from him.
My heart aches because Stefan looks… happy. Safe.
My god. I didn’t know how badly I’d been clinging to some kind of hope, and here it is. At great personal expense, but here it is, nonetheless.
They both look up as I approach, Stefan waving at me with one hand while holding his tea with the other. And Semyon—my cold, terrifying husband.
Except… he doesn’t look so terrifying now.
Instead of his perfect suit, he wears a plain white T-shirt and gray pajama pants. Stubble shadows his jaw. His dark hair is ever so slightly mussed, and his glasses perch on the edge of his nose, giving him an almost softer edge.
Superman at rest.
No. No way. He can’t do this. He can’t sit here, playing checkers with Stefan, eating breakfast like he’s some kind of domesticated man who actually cares. Who actually has a heart.
“Good morning,” I say, but my voice is sharper and colder than I intended.
Semyon’s piercing blue eyes lock onto mine. For one moment, the intensity in that gaze robs me of my breath, and I remember last night’s details—every single one of them. His hands. His voice. His promise that we would consummate our marriage. The pain and heat he painted across my ass.
No, it’s wrong to think about this with my brother sitting right there. God.
Now here he is, looking like an entirely different man, as if I somehow imagined the coldhearted monster in my dreams.
Is he gaslighting me?
“It’s late,” I tell him. “I’m supposed to be at the bakery.”
With a nod, he explains, his voice firm. “I made a decision. A lot has happened in a very short time. The bakery is closed for the day and will stay closed for the weekend while we figure out what we’re doing next with it.”
I open my mouth to protest. We don’t close the bakery.
But he continues. “I have reasons for that, Anya. Don’t question them,” he says quietly, his tone a calm command.
I hesitate, wanting to hear everything before I respond. “And Stefan has to get to school—”
“Stefan will stay home from school today. On Monday, it’ll be business as usual. We have a lot to go over.”
“What?” I ask, my confusion spilling over. “No school? But he—”
“You heard what I said,” he snaps, turning back to the checkerboard.
Stefan smirks at me. “If he says I’m staying home from school, I’m staying home from school,” he says, his tone full of mischief. “Maybe I’ll stay home every Friday, and you can’t make me go.”
Before I can respond, Semyon’s voice cracks like a whip.” Stefan.”
My brother freezes, his smirk vanishing as he looks at Semyon with wide eyes.
“That’s your sister,” Semyon says, his tone low and dangerous. “And my wife. You don’t speak to her like that again. Am I clear?”
Stefan swallows hard and nods. “Yes, sir.”
Yes, sir? What? What has happened to my brother, and who is in his place?
I blink, stunned into silence. I’ve never seen anyone check Stefan’s attitude—not even me. And the fact that it comes from Semyon makes it feel even more surreal.
But Semyon isn’t finished. “Apologize.”
Stefan swallows hard. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I nod as my eyes drift to the checkerboard. Stefan’s brow is furrowed in concentration as he stares at the pieces, seemingly forgetting what just happened. Semyon sits back, almost relaxed, though his focus is razor-sharp.