Page 71 of Unveiled

What she didn’t know was how deeply in debt he already was. She had no idea how many conversations I’d had—begging, threatening—doing everything I could to keep her brother out of my family’s business. Out of everybody’s business.

Rafail wouldn’t engage with him just because he knew what it would do to their family. But we weren’t the only Bratva outside of Moscow.

Anya will need to know the whole story eventually. All she remembers is her mother begging me to keep her brother out of the Bratva and me turning my back on them. And that’s when it all fell apart. Six months later, Eli was drowning in debt. Her mother confronted me, desperate, begging. Tempers flared, and then… she collapsed. A heart attack, just like that. No warning. We couldn’t save her.

None of us could.

Anya blamed me. Hell, I would’ve blamed me, too.

She stirs awake and looks around, disoriented. There’s a faint line on her cheek from where the seatbelt pressed against her skin. Cute.

"We’re home?" she asks in a small voice.

Home. She called it home. An unfamiliar warmth spreads across my chest.

"Yeah, we just got here." Silence hangs in the air between us. "I know how tired you are. I can carry you in and come back for Stefan?—"

She shakes her head. "I can walk. I’m not comfortable leaving him out here."

She has no idea how extensive the security is around my house, how damn near impossible it would be for someone to get on my property, let alone pose a real threat to us. But I respect her decision.

"Let’s get him upstairs."

I feel her eyes on me as I lift Stefan into my arms for the second time. I wonder what she’s thinking. I wonder why her breath hitches a little as she leans against the car and watches me.

"Why don’t you grab the pie that Zoya sent home?" I jerk my chin toward the back seat. She follows silently behind me as I carry Stefan up to his room. It’s tidied from earlier, in a haphazard work of a young boy. But he made an effort.

I lay him on the bed, and Anya helps me prepare him for sleep. We remove his shoes. We work quietly. I lift him while she turns down the sheets. Our eyes meet over thesleeping form of her little brother as I lay him back down, and she tucks him in.

This woman is going to be the mother of my children. I couldn’t have chosen better.

But doIhave what it takes to love a child? Can I think beyond my own needs? I know the challenges I face. I know who I am and the whispered voices that call me the Ice King.

Could I really, truly love another human?

I look down at the sleeping form of her brother. I barely know him. I wouldn’t say I love him… yet.

But could I?

We close the door quietly behind us, and I walk her to her bedroom.

"I don’t want to sleep in my bed tonight," she says with a yawn, not meeting my eyes.

"Good," I whisper. I reach for her and turn her to me, then slide my palm down to the small of her back and draw her near. I kiss her forehead and lace my fingers gently behind her neck because it seems she likes it when I do that. “Because I want you in my bed. You’re tired right now. Get some rest. Then we’ll talk."

"You were only teasing about punishing me, then?" she asks, her eyes dancing with mischief.

I shake my head. “Did I sound like I was teasing?”

My dick’s instantly hard at the thought of her squirming over my knee.

Chapter 20

ANYA

Nervous excitement fluttersin my belly.

It feels like a step toward intimacy, sharing space with him. Even in my state of exhaustion, I’m aware of the details, how his room is an extension of his personality—structured. Minimalist. Meticulously organized. Every element of the room is deliberate and precise, from the ebony wood to the steel and glass accents. Even the high-quality linens in understated neutral shades.

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