Page 104 of Unveiled

This was all a ploy to get me to marry him. A plan to gain access to my family’s bakery, fortify it, and strengthen his own family.

His family always comes first, doesn’t it?

An emotion I can’t describe rises in my chest, but I push it down. I have to deal with the present.Now.

It was all a lie. A carefully orchestrated plan. I was convenient but nothing more.

I fell for it.

Zoya knocks gently at the door. Semyon’s back on his phone with a scowl while my world is caving in on me.

The walls feel too close, as if they're closing in. I tell myself that I'm not in my right mind—that there's more to the storythan meets the eye. I tell myself that I need to stop reacting and that I need to think this through before I make a decision.

I tell myself that I matter.

But the words feel hollow.

Something is off. Too much has happened too fast, and the answers only seem to raise more questions. But one thing is clear—Semyon all but admitted it. My father was involved to a degree, enough that he gave me away before I even knew there was a choice to make.

And now everything I thought was mine feels like an illusion.

Who else has been lying to me? What else am I going to find out next?

Zoya hands me a tray with my favorite soup: creamy chicken and rice, a recipe she learned from Polina. Next to the bowl is crusty bread and a simple salad, along with a large glass of water. A few minutes ago, I was starving. Now I can't think of eating anything, but if I don't, I'll draw alarm from them. So I thank her and take a sip of water and a tentative bite of bread.

"I was worried for you," Semyon says with a little smile, oblivious to my inner turmoil. I squeeze his hand back even as a lump forms in my throat. I won't look at him now, my handsome, heartless Superman.

“Hey. Anya, are you alright?”

From the doorway, Rafail stands, his hands in his pockets.He looks tired, wearing nothing but his dress slacks and a white T-shirt, his ever-present suit jacket discarded.

No, I'm not all right. But I only nod quietly. "I wish I knew why that happened, but yeah, I think I'm okay.”

“I know. Rest and tell us if you need anything.” My nose tingles. It’s nice to have someone taking care ofmefor once.

Rafail looks to Semyon. “We’re ready for you.”

The person he has to interrogate is waiting downstairs—the person who has answers, presumably. But he hesitates, his eyes on me.

"Go," I say, and to my relief, my voice doesn't waver this time. It feels like I'm telling him to go in more ways than one.

Go… leave me.

Everything's been manipulated, shaped to fit into the grand design of their empire. And for what? Control. My family's safety was used as a bargaining chip in their game.

The walls feel too close, the blankets too hot. I try to steady my breathing, but all I can do is focus on Semyon’s rumpled clothes and mussed hair. The man who has become my tether is now the one unraveling me.

He thought he could control me, another piece on his chessboard.

He rises to his feet. “Anya, rest. I’ll be back.”

My eyes stay fixed on the bandage wrapped around his arm—a reminder of everything he’s endured. A reminder that he’s human. I know he’s been through hell too.

Fear gnaws at me. What else has he kept from me?

I can’t afford to break now.

"Anya?" Zoya's voice cuts through the haze. I blink, realizing she's standing in front of me, concerned.

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