Page 84 of Unleashed

“Rafail?”

“Yeah.”

“What did Gleb say?”

She rolls over and looks at me, her brow furrowed.

“About what?”

“About what you’ve said tonight.”

“Nothing. He wasn’t there.”

She sits up straighter in bed, her eyes wide as she clutches the sheets. What the hell?

“Where is he?”

“Relax, he was sleeping. What’s going on?”

Wordlessly, she shows me a picture on her phone. “This was from a few years ago.”

I look it over. Cold dread tightens my chest when I see her—my bride, Polina Romanova—smack dab in the center of the Romanov family.

“Do you see him?”

“Who?” She has lots of brothers.

Fuck.

“Look,” she says, stabbing at the screen. I didn’t even notice the smaller boy in the corner of the frame. I squint my eyes before realization hits.

“Is that—Jesus, that looks like Gleb. It’s hard to tell; this is an older photo, and the quality’s shit. But if it is him… why’s he in this picture?”

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t remember him at all. I know that we had galas and auctions; it was an annual event with my family. Can you ask Gleb if he remembers anything?”

I nod. “Yeah, and I’ll ask my uncle too. Did you find any more clothes?”

She points to a small pile on the dresser.

“I did.” Folding her arms over her chest, she gives me a curious look.

“And? Are you going to get changed so you can join us, or what?”

“I told you,” she says stubbornly, her eyes hard. “I’m not coming.”

I step toward her, my voice deep and commanding. My patience is at an all-time low. I thought I already made it very clear that this bullshit won’t fly with me. I take a step closer, my voice dropping to a growl. “You’re coming with me, Anissa. This isn’t a negotiation.” Her defiance burns in her eyes, that fire I crave and want to crush. She straightens, challenging me. God, I fucking love that about her even as I want to shake her.

“No, I’m not.”

I let out a slow breath, moving closer. “This isn’t a debate. You get dressed and get your ass out there for dinner before I carry you there myself.”

I don’t have time for this.

Her eyes flare, but I see her hesitate. She knows I don’t bluff, and it matters to her to save face. “You can’t just?—”

“I can and will,” I growl, my hand brushing her arm as I lean in. “If you think I’m going to let you sit here alone while god knows what happens, you’re wrong. You’re a part of this family now.”

She’s infuriating.

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