Page 65 of Unleashed

Chapter 18

“ANISSA”

It’s notuncommon for Rafail to look angry, but right now, he looks murderous. I’m half drowsy after what he put me through, but as he talks to his brother, I look down at the phone Rafail finally gave me. Yana had a question about tonight, and it’s best I stay out of whatever has caused that look on his face today. I’m halfway through replying to her when Rafail’s voice cuts me off mid-thought.

“Polina? That sounds familiar, but I don’t know why. I hardly know them.”

My phone drops into my lap. I stare at him.Polina.The name from my dream. I’ve heard it more than once now, and it still rings with a familiarity that makes my heart ache.

Polina.

A memory comes to me so suddenly I’m breathless. I’m standing in a room that’s familiar to me because I’ve seen it in my dreams.A living room? The gray-haired woman looks with concern, and a man—Mikhail. His name is Mikhail.

I blink. I know his name. And not just his name. He’s my brother. Mikhail. Aleksandr. They are my brothers.

I close my eyes. Remembering.

He’s telling me to flee, that I’m in grave danger. And my mother promises that we’ll be safe if we go to Moscow.

Moscow. I’m near Moscow now.

What happened?

“Polina?” I whisper, staring at Rafail. “The name from my dream.” I sit up. I push away from him.

Rafail’s look grows cloudy, his gaze concerned. “You may have met her at one point? Maybe you knew her. She’s the Romanov sister.”

Romanov.

“Romanov?” I whisper. “That’s my name, Rafail.”

I stare at Rafail. I feel as if I’d know if he was lying, but there’s nothing but earnest sincerity in his gaze. Shaking his head, he snakes his arm around my back. “It isn’t, love. You were never a Romanov. I know that for a fact. Your name is Anissa Kopolov now. Everything I’ve told you is true.”

But that’s when he looks away.

Everything I’ve told you is true.

Something in my mind begins to stir. Questioning. I feel confused and uneasy as flashes of memory start to surface thatdon’t align with what I’ve been told. I can hear snatches of conversation, see visions of places that feel familiar, see faces of men and women that I know are… family.

I shake my head and close my eyes, trying to make sense of it all. He isn’t lying, and yet… he’s totally lying.

Could it be that he doesn’t know the truth?

Or has he completely hoodwinked me?

I’m still half-drunk with pleasure, so the thought of him actually lying to me sounds atrocious. I hate the idea of my trust in him… wavering.

And yet…

I feel safe with him. I even began to think that despite my lack of memory, I could build a future with him. I love his sisters and brothers, and I feel like I belong here.

But… something isn’t right.

“What is it?” he asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I just… well. I’m afraid that… my memories are coming back, and they’re confusing me.”

His scowl doesn’t alleviate my concerns.

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