Page 79 of Unveiled

SEMYON

The days pass,and Matvei feels no closer to getting the truth than he was before. Anya is getting impatient—I can tell by the way she questions things. We go for dinner like clockwork at six every night, and it seems like she and her brother have always been here. She’s become besties with Zoya, and she chats with my family as if she knows them.

She does, though, doesn't she? My beautiful wife.

It’s getting close to the Romanov ball. They are famous for having these benefits in New York, but now that Polina is situated in Moscow—just outside of Moscow—and her mother spends so much time here, they've decided to extend their balls to Moscow as well. It's a benefit, really, typically an art auction generating several million that they donate to charity. It keeps the Romanovs in good standing, and by association, us.

So I've agreed—reluctantly—to allow Anya to go shopping with my sisters. I'm at the bar with Matvei, Rodion, and Rafail, along with Rafail’s friend, Vadka.

"Are you pregnant yet?" Rafail asks, just as he motions to the bartender for another shot of vodka.

"Of course not," I tell him. "What kind of bullshit phrase is that anyway? Men don't get pregnant."

"But they should," the bartender says, her hands planted flat across the top of the bar. I recognize her from somewhere, but it isn't until Vlad speaks up that I know exactly where.

"And why is that?" he asks, his head tipped to the side.

The bartender—Ruth—is Vadka's sister-in-law. He's married to her sister. With a shock of short black hair and eyes that cut right through you, she's memorable. A spitfire. And there are interesting rumors that circulate about her loyalty and ruthlessness.

"Because you men should share the burden of it,” she says pragmatically. "It's an absolute shame that evolution hasn't come to the point where you also have children."

"We have children," I tell her, taking a methodical sip of my beer. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You don't bear them. You don't have to deal with stretch marks, blood, and saggy boobs."

I cock my head to the side.

“…And the labor pains and leaking nipples." She throws her hands up in the air. "I've seen what women go through. It's bullshit."

And with that, she slams the bottle of vodka on the counter. "You can pour your own damn vodka.”

"What the hell is that about?" I ask Vadka.

He shakes his head. “Who knows? She's really harmless. Actually, no, notharmlessat all," he says quietly, shaking his head. “If you’re on her good side.”

Rodion frowns. “Does she just hate men?”

"Wouldn't blame her if she did," I say, taking another drink of my beer. "We're kind of assholes."

"Speak for yourself," Rafail says, smacking my back.

"You are definitely an asshole," Matvei says to him. “Listen, I hate to dredge up the past, but going through these computer files, I've come across a few things," he says cryptically.

"Like what?" I ask him.

"You all remember that Anissa betrayed our fearless leader," Matvei says, jerking his chin toward Rafail, who grunts into his glass.

"Ended well for me," Rafail says. "I got my wife instead of that traitor."

Matvei’s eyes narrow. "And that traitor still betrayed us, didn't she?"

"You weren't supposed to be looking for that information," Rodion says, shaking his head. "You were supposed to be cracking into the computer to get information about the abduction—or supposed abduction or whatever the fuck."

"I know," Matvei says. "And what if I told you that the two things were intricately intertwined?"

"Jesus," I mutter under my breath. "Do you mean to tell me?—"

"I don't mean to tell you anything. I want to tell you exactly what it is. This is what I found out.” He lowers his voice. “The Irish are heavily involved."

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