Page 85 of Unveiled

I miss my mom.

I don't miss my dad because he destroyed everything that was good between us, but I miss who he was before.

But even when my family was intact, I didn’t have sisters.

And now I do.

"I think we should get these for Stefan," Zoya says with a grin, pointing to a box of remote-controlled cars. I’m grateful for the change of subject before I bawl like a baby. I might be a little high-strung. “Please, this would be so perfect. I can just see them racing around Semyon’s perfect house.”

“Or these,” Yana says, picking up a box of blocks with shapes that look like castles and dragons. “He loves building things. Imagine the look on his face building his own fortress.”

My throat gets a little scratchy, and I look away, nodding because changing the subject didn’t help. I’m afraid if I talk right now, I'm going to blubber all over both of them.

I’m not the only one who cares about my baby brother anymore.

Yana flips through clothes on hangers, not meeting my eyes. “You know that Semyon isn’t… He has some challenges, Anya. You know that, don't you?"

I nod slowly.

"It doesn't mean he isn't asfeelingas the rest of us," Yana says. "He just doesn't always know how to express that."

"I know. He tries so hard, doesn't he?" I’ve watched him. I know he catalogs everything like a scientist, that it takes him time to process reactions of emotions. But I love that he tries so damn hard.

"Of course. And I love that you know that about him.” Yana grins. “Do you know the day he married you, I told him off?"

"Did you?"

"Yes. I told him not to treat you like a chess piece in his game. And I meant every word I said." Yana sweeps all of our purchases into her arms and heads to the front register. "Rafail will pay for this," she says with a wink.

I nod, thankful. “What did he say?"

She laughs out loud. "Well, at the time? He said it wasn’t personal.” She snorts. “Don't get me wrong, hecanbe a jerk."

"Who can?”

Semyon stands behind us, hands on hips. My heart melts a little. He's so handsome, so protective, all scowling and Superman-like. The girl who was waiting on us gets all flustered when he folds his arms, revealing his muscular forearms.

"Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop on our conversation because it has nothing to do with you," Yana says.

"Yeah," Zoya adds, but she flushes bright pink when he gives her a stern look.

"Maybe what you have to say to my wife haseverythingto do with me." But I can’t tell if his eyes behind his glasses are twinkling. "Anya, I'm going to have the girls take these packages home. You and I have work to do with the bakery."

He leans in and kisses my cheek, lacing his fingers through mine. Zoya gawks. Yana grins.

When I look outside, I notice that a car idles by the curb, purring softly.

I wave. “Bye, girls.”

They wave and watch as I walk hand-in-hand with him. I'm well aware of the eyes of all the people around us. Zalivka is a small, working class city outside of Moscow. Everyone knows who the Kopolov family is. That means they know who I am too.

"I finished running the financials for your business," Semyon says as he opens the car door for me. By now, I know not to even reach for it. "I'm pretty confident that we can bring it back in the black, but you're going to have to make some changes.”

He talks on and on about numbers, distribution, and industrial machinery, but all I can think about is making sure that my mom's special place—that she created with her own two hands—doesn't go down.

I nod, processing.

He slides into the driver's seat, shuts the door, and begins to drive toward the bakery.

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