Page 21 of Unveiled

“Rafail believed in swift, memorable lessons. Humiliation. He never yelled. Never raised his voice.”

“Sounds lovely,” I mutter.

“Sounds effective,” he counters.

I look away. “So that’s what you have planned for me? If I don’t behave, you’ll have ‘swift, memorable’ lessons?”

Semyon shakes his head, cuts a large bite of chicken, andchews it methodically before answering me. “Not at all. I plan on taking my time and enjoying it thoroughly.”

Gah.

“Enjoying punishing someone?” I shake my head.

Semyon shrugs. I’m fixated on his large, inked hands tearing the bread in half. “If it’s done right,” he says with a note of something dark and wicked in his voice. “You might enjoy it too.”

I stare at him, my mouth agape, but I can’t help the way my body responds. I don’t like it. I hate him.

I look away.

“Even if you devise whatever punishment you think I deserve,” I begin. My voice wavers no matter how hard I try to keep a lid on my temper. I look away from him. It feels like he’s made a move on the board and put mine in jeopardy. “You won’t win, Semyon. You’ll only make me hate you more.”

He sips his drink before he replies. “Hate me all you want. But your family is alive because of this.”

Despite my anger, I can’t help but recognize the truth in his words. I can’t help but be confused by his motives.

I shake my head. “I don’t understand. I have nothing to offer you.”

His cold, hard eyes drag down the length of my simple dress before he meets my eyes again. “I need a wife.”

I shake my head. “You could’ve had your pick of anyone in Zalivka. You’re wealthy and attractive. Whyme?”

For the first time, he looks almost perplexed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I blink in surprise and shove a crust of bread in my mouth. I shake my head.

“I didn’t want anyone. I didn’t want a wife who would use my family or my wealth for her own gain. I didn’t want some pretty little thing taking selfies by my pool with her manicured nails and flaunting them or someone who’d go behind my back and seek the affection of someone who’d give it to her when I knew full well I couldn’t.”

I feel as if he’s doused me in ice water. I stare. He goes on.

“I wanted a wife dependent on me. I wanted a wife who had no choice but to be faithful because the price of infidelity cost her too much.” He took another sip of wine. “I wanted a wife who wasn’t seeking love or affection or anything else I couldn’t give but was desperate enough to take what I could give her, so there was no backing out.”

Leaning forward, his gaze is so chilling, I actually shiver.

“I wanted a wife who knew that marriage to me was forever. And just like always, Anya… I got exactly what I wanted.”

I open my mouth to tell him off, to snatch back some scrap of dignity, but I don’t know where to begin.

“Here. Look.”

With a scowl, he takes his phone out of his pocket and shows me the screen. With deft movements, the blunt tips of his rough fingers slide over it. I stare, not sure what I’m seeing. “Come closer,Anya.”

I rise out of my chair, curiosity getting the better of me. I stand close enough to see the phone but not close enough for him to touch me. Numbers swim in neat rows on the screen.

“This is your family’s debt to me.” I stare at the numbers, a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

With a few swipes, the screen of red goes white. My shoulders feel a bit lighter. I let out a breath.

“And this,” he continues, tapping a few more things with cold precision, scowling at the screen, “is what I’ve deposited in your business bank account. I’ve settled your outstanding debts, and on Monday, I’ll introduce you to Claude, your new business manager. Do you know what this means, Anya?”

---