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)
Eli swings again but misses, his aim off. Semyon lands a brutal punch to Eli’s stomach, but Eli recovers fast. He rams his shoulder into Semyon, and they both tumble to the ground, fists flying. They grunt and curse, rolling while they beat each other. Blood splatters on the floor.
I hate this. My heart is in my throat seeing the two men I love beat each other like this. “Stop it! You’re going to kill each other!” I scream.
Neither of them listens.
Eli is smaller and weaker after captivity, but he fights as if he’s got nothing left to lose.
And maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he fucking doesn’t. I swipe at the hot, fat tears that roll down my cheeks.
For once, Semyon isn’t in control… isn’t calculated. This is personal.
They crash into a nightstand, sending a lamp shattering to the floor. They hit each other again and again. They’re going to kill each other. They snarl and curse, fighting dirty, fighting mean. I’ve never seen them fight like this, and something tells me this one isn’t going to end.
I look wildly around the room for something to use to stop them when they roll right at my feet. I see Semyon’s gun.
I reach for it, cock it, aim for the ceiling, and pull the trigger. Chunks of plaster fall to my feet, dust and debris making me blink and cough. Semyon and Eli stop. Semyon’s instantly on his feet, running to me. His hand shakes as he cups my face, fear in his normally placid gaze. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I whisper, choked up at the obvious concern in his eyes.
Eli watches him, wide-eyed.
Semyon’s eye’s swollen shut, he has a bloody lip, and his wound is bleeding. He lost his glasses somewhere in the mix. He looks younger without them.
Both of them are panting, bloody.
“I’m fine. You fucking idiots!” My hands are planted on my hips. “You couldn’t talk like sensible adults?”
Semyon’s heaving air, wiping at his split lip. “You done?”
Eli breathes hard on his back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes land on Semyon’s shoulder, where blood seeps through the fabric. “Jesus. What’d I do to your shoulder?”
“Oh, just opened up a gunshot wound,” I snap.
Semyon shakes his head and rolls his shoulders as if it’s nothing. “I’m fine.”
“My god.” I shake my head, my nerves completely shot. “Seriously. You two could’ve killed each other like absolute imbeciles.”
Eli’s eyes meet mine, narrowed and angry. “Did he hurt you?” He looks back at Semyon, his anger rising again. “That’s my fucking sister, you douchebag.”
“I’m well aware,” Semyon says smoothly. “And, of course, I wouldn’t hurt her.”
Semyon scoffs, but I can see the tension in his muscles. He lied. He’s definitely in pain.
Eli pushes himself up to an elbow. “Why Anya? Of all people, Semyon, my sister.”
Semyon’s eyes flash at him. “Because there are no other women for me, Eli, and there never was.”
I stare at Semyon as the truth crashes in on me.
He was waiting for me.
He’s planned every move in life just like he plans his moves on a chessboard. He waited until I was grown up—until I needed him—and he had a way to bargain for me.
At another time and place, I’d have been horrified. But now… but now I see the truth.
Semyon Kopolov… loves me.
Eli flinches. I see it, the moment reality sinks in. The bruises, the hollowed cheeks. The way his hands tremble. He’s paid the piper too.
I drop to one knee in front of him. “Eli.” My lower lip trembles. He reaches for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Anya,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it, I didn’t want you mixed up in all this.”
I give him a sad smile. “I know, but it’s too late for that. I thought you left.”
He scoffs. “Left? I might’ve made some bad decisions, but do you really think I’d leave you and Stefan alone like that?”
Yeah. Yeah, I really did think that.
“Maybe I did.”
Eli shakes his head. “I deserve that. I fucked up. Still, you should’ve run, Anya. Jesus, woman. Instead, you married him.”
And for some reason I can’t explain, I feel like defending Semyon. “It’s not like I married the devil incarnate.”
Semyon quirks a brow. “Thanks?”
Eli lets out a ragged breath and drags himself to sitting, leaning against the wall for support.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” he says dryly to Eli. “And you and I aren’t done here.”
Eli holds his hands, palms up. “I won’t fight you anymore.” His gaze flicks over Semyon’s wounded shoulder. “And you’re bleeding through your stitches, dumbass.”
Semyon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Yeah, yeah, you fucking Bratva hardass.”
A beat of silence stretches. They haven’t forgiven each other, but are we getting closer to an understanding?
“Are you two done beating the shit out of each other or what?” I ask sternly, hands planted on my hips.