Page 40 of Unveiled

No matter the cost.

Chapter 12

ANYA

The dim roomreeked of cigarette smoke and alcohol, with a faint tinge of body odor, the low hum of voices punctuated by the clink of coins and glasses. I hated this place. I hated this place and the people who frequented it even more, but most of all, I hated that my brother was sitting at the center of it, a grin on his face as he threw down another handful of cash he didn’t have and had probably stolen.

I stayed near the doorway, my chest tight with dread. When I followed him here I had no idea this was where I’d end up. I just wanted to talk some sense into him.

But now, staring at the scene in front of me, I felt frozen in place. The place reeked of danger. And Eli wasn’t going to listen to me. He was too far gone, drunk on adrenaline and whatever delusion of invincibility he was chasing.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made me jump. My breath caught when I saw him. Semyon. He moved like ashadow, noticeable even from a distance since he was the only one wearing glasses.

He looked out of place, wearing an impeccable, pressed shirt and suit among the other sweat-stained shirts and leather jackets. He looked sharp and untouchable among a roomful of older men who nursed potbellies, heavy jowls, and receding hairlines.

Semyon was a king among men. I glanced away for a moment, not trusting my heartbeat.

I’d had a little crush on him for as long as I could remember. It didn’t help that the usual hum of conversation faltered as men noticed his presence. The way they deferred to him and spoke with respect and more than a little fear. He was just that powerful.

Others might say it was because he was Bratva that the palpable fear followed him like his shadow. But I knew better. I knew Semyon had a way of commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

Part of itwashis Bratva-meets-Superman aura. But it wasn’t just the way he looked—it was the way he carried himself, that air of not giving a fuck that could make a woman weep. Because who wouldn’t want a man like that in her corner? Someone who would stop at nothing to protect her?

Even at twenty-one years old, he carried himself with a chilling authority that belied his age. I watched as he walked straight to my brother’s table, his blue eyes narrowing.

“Eli,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Come here.”

I practically ran to him myself; the need to obey his command felt primal. Otherworldly.

Eli glanced up, lazy, smirking. “Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence. You here to join the fun?”

“I said get the fuck over here,” Semyon growled. “Now.”

My brother had the audacity to chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “Relax. It’s just a friendly game. What the fuck is your problem?”

Semyon didn’t flinch. The only sign my brother’s words hit him was the faintest twitch of his fingers. He was stronger than Eli. More powerful. “That’s not your money you’re gambling with. And you know it.”

The other men at the table began to shift uncomfortably, glancing between Semyon and Eli. One by one, I watched as they mumbled excuses and disappeared into the smoky corners of the room, unwilling to be caught in the fallout of the Kopolov Bratva.

Of Semyon.

Semyon leaned on his forearms, menacing. I watched him, unable to breathe. “You’re going to take your money, and you’re going to fucking leave. Or you’ll deal with me. Not Rafail. Me.”

I couldn’t help it—I hitched a breath. I had never heard him sound like that before—so cold, so detached. Semyon was a man of his word, and I would hate to see what it meant to “deal with him.”

“You think I’m scared of you?” my brother spat.

Semyon tilted his head slightly, his icy gaze unwavering. “You should be.”

I gasped. My breathing grew faster, my hands clammy. I watched as the two men stood face-to-face, the air between them charged. Then, without a word, my brother grabbed his coat and stormed past Semyon. Semyon didn’t watch him go. Instead, he turned his head slightly, his eyes sweeping the room until they landed on me.

I was frozen in place.

My heart stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.

I didn’t want him to see me here. I didn’t need to be told he wouldn’t approve of me here. But the weight of his gaze pinned me in place, and for a moment, I thought something flickered in his expression—recognition?

Was that… fear?

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