Page 27 of Unveiled

Ophelia, standing behind me, makes a little squeaking sound and curses under her breath. I can feel Stefan trembling as he clutches my arm, but I don’t move.

“He needs me,” I say firmly.

Semyon’s gaze flicks to Stefan and then back to me, a glimpse of something—surprise?—crossing his face.

“Who?” he asks, his tone colder than ice.

“Stefan. My younger brother,” I reply, my voice steady despite the lump rising in my throat. “Who do you think?”

For a moment, Semyon’s expression is unreadable. Then he speaks, blunt as ever. “I thought you came here to find another man.”

“Another man? What are you talking about?”

His eyes dart away, and for an instant, I think I see something like shame in his expression. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by the cold, calculated mask that always makes my skin crawl.

“You were forbidden from leaving,” he says, stepping closer, his words snapping like a whip. “And at the first opportunity, that’s what you did.”

“Ophelia couldn’t find my brother!” I protest.

Semyon steps even closer, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He crooks a finger, his command sharp and precise. “Come here,” he orders.

I instinctively take a step forward, but he shakes his head.

“No, Anya. Not you.”

Panic rises in my chest. Oh god. Stefan?

Before I can stop him, Stefan steps out from behind me, standing straight. There’s a flash of arrogance in hisexpression, the same kind our oldest brother used to wear like armor.

Semyon’s eyes widen, just slightly, before narrowing again. “And this is…”

“Stefan,” I reply quickly, stepping forward protectively.

“I knew you had a brother,” he says coolly, his voice like steel. “Because your other brother owes us four million, Anya.”

“You didn’t know I had a younger brother?”

"My records say your brother is in a boarding school, sent there by your uncle," Semyon says, his tone flat.

"Well, maybe it’s time you update your records," I snap. "My brother hasn’t been in that school for over two years—not since my father spent the tuition money."

Semyon’s expression softens, his voice dropping. "I’m sorry," he says quietly. "I had no idea you have a younger brother at home. You should have told me."

He shakes his head, the faintest trace of frustration flickering across his face.

"You should’ve come to me," he continues. "You should’ve told me why you were leaving. I would’ve brought you here safely instead of…" He gestures vaguely at me. "This wreck of a situation."

His eyes sharpen as his voice hardens. "Your life belongs to me now, Anya."

Stefan’s eyes flash with defiance as he steps forward, hissmall fists clenched. "You can’t own someone’s life," he says, his voice trembling but firm.

Semyon’s icy gaze snaps to him, narrowing. "Watch your tone, boy," he warns. Instinctively, I pull Stefan closer, wrapping my arms protectively around him.

"He’s right," I say, my voice steady despite the tightening in my chest. "You don’t own me. I won’t let Stefan think this is how things work—that this is normal. I owe him more than that."

Semyon’s lips twitch into a faint, almost amused smile, baring his teeth. "Don’t I?" he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

I don’t know what shocks me more—his words or the certainty with which he says them. It’s not even a question; he speaks it as if it’s a simple fact. And yet, beneath the icy detachment in his tone, there’s a hint of something… something I hadn’t expected. For one fleeting moment, I wonder if I’ve misjudged him.

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