Page 25 of Unveiled

Hell, look at Rafail, the sternest of our family, our fearless leader. One minute, he’s ruling Moscow with militaristic precision. The next, he’s courting sleepless nights and cooing over the way his precious infant burped.

And my father… no. I won’t think of that now.

Love is a fucking leash, a tether, a poison disguised as a gift. It robs you of control, and control is the only thing I trust.

I glance in the car ahead and watch as Ophelia sayssomething to her, gesturing wildly, but Anya only shakes her head as if lost in thought. Her gaze is fixed out the window.

I wonder what she’s thinking…

As soon as I find myself wondering that, I stop myself, irritated. It doesn’t matter what she’s thinking.

Unless she’s thinkingI shouldn’t have run away from my husband,her thoughts are irrelevant.

This is a game. I feel like a cat playing with a mouse, letting it run just until it gets to a point of near safety—before I smack my paw on its little tail and drag it back to me, squealing, before I feast.

You can run, little mouse.

Run as fast as you can.

My dick throbs, and my mouth goes dry.

I’ll catch you.

And when I do…

Their car comes to a stop ahead. They’re getting out.

I wait a few blocks behind them before I follow.

Chapter 9

ANYA

“Areyou sure no one followed us?” I ask Ophelia. I don’t trust that I got away that easily from Semyon.

I don’t trust anything to do with him.

“Babe, no one followed us. Did you see how fast and recklessly I drove? That was onpurpose.”

She actually looks offended when I huff out a laugh.

“Thistime, alright? That way, if anyone was following us, we lost them.”

I look behind me and see nothing but inky darkness. At this point, I don’t care if he had me followed. All that matters is that Stefan is safe.

As soon as I got the news from Ophelia, I sounded the alert with the small group of tight-knit friends I’ve made in my neighborhood. We’re all just trying to make ends meet, eachof us navigating our own struggles while watching each other’s backs.

Lena, the local grocery store owner with a houseful of kids and a huge heart, responded first.

Lena

I’ll look around. I’m so sorry I haven’t seen him. Is the story of what I heard about you true? Everyone knows someone, we’ll find him

Marco, the bartender who knew half the city’s occupants, poured drinks, and collected whispers like currency.

Marco

Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Little kid like him would stand out. Hang in there.

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