Page 11 of Unveiled

But I’m numb right now. I don’t return his chatter and don’t answer his questions, and eventually, he stops talking to me. He’s a big guy, as tall as Semyon but bulkier, so no one even thinks about bothering us on the way back. When we get to my place, his brows lift in surprise before he masks his expression.

I know. It’s a total shithole and probably looks even worse to a wealthy, powerful man like him.

“You need… help packing or something?” he asks, his expression almost boyish, as if he doesn’t know what to do in the presence of a distraught woman.

I catch the gleaming glint of gold on his finger and flash him a glare. “I haven’t agreed to marry your brother.”

This time, he doesn’t bother to hide his reaction. “It would be a grave mistake not to, Anya.”

“That’s what you think.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. Semyon is cold, I know. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s really human. He doesn’t… feel things the way others do. But if you married him, he would make sure you had what you needed. I know he would.”

I turn away from him to mask the raw emotion in my chest. “What do you or your brother know about what I need?”

He sighs. “You’d be dumb as fuck not to take him up on this offer.”

Of course I’m going to take him up on his offer. Do I have a real choice? I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of caving so quickly when I haven’t even had a chance to process this myself.

I grit my teeth, slide the key into the wobbly lock that Rodion side-eyes without bothering to pretend he isn’t, and push it open. “Thanks for walking me home and the unsolicited advice,” I say with a forced smile before I shut the door in his face, trying to ignore how much he looks like hisdamn brother. A mean trick from the universe, making monsters so beautiful.

Argh!

I press my forehead to the cool door to quell the trembling. It doesn’t work. I clench my hands into fists to stop the tears thatwillcome now that I’m alone. It doesn’t help. I sink to the floor in a heap and give way to sobs. They rack my body, my shoulders shaking, deep, heavy tears that feel as if they’re torn straight from my heartstrings. I give in to all the fears and anger I’ve been holding onto for so long.

I’m furious at my father for being a weak asshole who cares more about his next bottle of liquor than he does his own children. I hate my brother for being no better than my father, for betraying his family and leaving us to fend for ourselves when he could’ve done so much better.

He used to be my best friend.

Gregarious and charming, he could talk a candlestick into falling in love with him. I swear Semyon and I are the only ones who see him for who he’s become.

I’m so angry at Semyon for using my family’s misfortune for his own personal gain, for refusing to back down and compromise. For pushing me to the brink of breaking.

A fresh sob escapes me. I wipe a hand across my snotty nose as hot tears plop onto the floor because I hate myself for the next person my anger settles on: my mother. I’m angry atherfor dying and leaving me to bear the burden of this alone.

I cry until the well of hurt, anger, and fear inside me begins to dissipate. Until my eyes are swollen and scratchy, myhead feels two times its normal size and aches, and I’m too stuffy to breathe out of my nose. It’s tolerable when weeping leaves you feeling relieved as if a pressure’s been lifted. But when you finish a good cry and still feel as desolate as before you began… it isn’t a good cry at all.

I pull myself to my feet and look around me. My father’s knocked out in his chair, a line of drool hanging from his lips. I’m glad. The only thing worse than losing my shit is losing my shit and knowing he doesn’t care.

The dishes I left are still piled in the sink. The light under Stefan’s door is out.

I close my eyes, a lump forming in my throat, and reach for my phone. With trembling fingers, I dial Ophelia. It goes to voicemail.

I put my phone down. I’ve never felt so alone in my life. I push to my feet when the phone begins to buzz. I reach for it, hope rising in my chest, and stifle a sob when I see Ophelia’s name.

I answer immediately. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice still tinged with that lisp she’s tried to fix for years.

I let out a sob. “No.” I tell her everything. Like the good friend that she is, she gasps, screams, curses, and moans at all the right parts, and when I’m finished, she blows out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god.Anya.What are you going to do?”

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, sniffling through a fresh wave of tears. “But I can’t leave Stefanhere.”

Ophelia is quiet for a moment before her voice picks up, filled with her usual misplaced optimism. Normally, I like it, but tonight…

“Listen, maybe you don’t have to actually marry him. Maybe… stall. Tell him you’ll think about it, and then maybe we can figure something out. You can—get a lawyer! Or… or maybe you can take Stefan, leave your useless father, and run. Change your names, move to another country. Canada? No one would look for you in Canada. It’s so cold.”

I laugh through my tears, but it sounds bitter and desperate. “Girl, I don’t even have enough money for bus fare, never mind fake passports and whatever I’d need. And how long could I hide from them? He’d find me before I even left the city.”

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