Page 42 of Unveiled

“It’s late,” I tell him. “I’m supposed to be at the bakery.”

With a nod, he explains, his voice firm. “I made a decision. A lot has happened in a very short time. The bakery is closed for the day and will stay closed for the weekend while we figure out what we’re doing next with it.”

I open my mouth to protest. We don’tclosethe bakery.

But he continues. “I have reasons for that, Anya. Don’t question them,” he says quietly, his tone a calm command.

I hesitate, wanting to hear everything before I respond. “And Stefan has to get to school?—”

“Stefan will stay home from school today. On Monday, it’ll be business as usual. We have a lot to go over.”

“What?” I ask, my confusion spilling over. “No school? But he?—”

“You heard what I said,” he snaps, turning back to the checkerboard.

Stefan smirks at me. “If he says I’m staying home from school, I’m staying home from school,” he says, his tone full of mischief. “Maybe I’ll stay home every Friday, and you can’t make me go.”

Before I can respond, Semyon’s voice cracks like a whip.” Stefan.”

My brother freezes, his smirk vanishing as he looks at Semyon with wide eyes.

“That’s your sister,” Semyon says, his tone low and dangerous. “And my wife. You don’t speak to her like that again. Am I clear?”

Stefan swallows hard and nods. “Yes, sir.”

Yes, sir? What? What has happened to my brother, and who is in his place?

I blink, stunned into silence. I’ve never seen anyone check Stefan’s attitude—not even me. And the fact that it comes from Semyon makes it feel even more surreal.

But Semyon isn’t finished. “Apologize.”

Stefan swallows hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I nod as my eyes drift to the checkerboard. Stefan’s brow is furrowed in concentration as he stares atthe pieces, seemingly forgetting what just happened. Semyon sits back, almost relaxed, though his focus is razor-sharp.

It’s all… bizarre.

That’s the man who locked me in my room last night. The man who spanked me and threatened me. The man I’ve argued with at every turn because I fucking hate him.

Now he’s sitting here, teaching my brother checkers, and acting like he actually cares?

Did I wake up in an alternate reality, or what?

I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him. But my stomach growls, and I’m in desperate need of a good cup of coffee, so I push through and decide I’m going to take things as they come.

I have to walk closer to Semyon to get to the coffee. I square my shoulders and try not to think about the fact that I’m naked under this robe.

As I draw closer to him, I remember the way he touched me. His low, masculine hum of need. The way it felt having him close and knowing, deep down in my bones, how badly he wanted me.

My body heats. I glance at him, hoping he’ll stay focused on the game, but no such luck. His eyes are raking over me in my bathrobe as if mentally undressing me.

Heat skates across my skin.

When I was younger, I’d have given anything in the world for him to look at me like this. But now?

Now, I don’t know how I feel about it.

I stand at the kitchen counter and look at the coffee machine in front of me. I've never seen anything like it. It looks like some kind of spaceship—one pull of the bells and whistles, and I might launch myself straight into the atmosphere.

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