Page 83 of Unhinged

I laugh into my hand. Matvei pours me another drink. It feels…right.

“And the two of you were absolutelyfuckedthe second you saw Rafail walk in.”

Matvei winces as if remembering it all in vivid detail. Hooo, boy. I get the feeling Rafail wasn’t the type to fuck around.

“Caught red-handed?”

Matvei smirks and shakes his head. “I can still remember what Rafail said.”

Everyone quiets as he grins, with straight white teeth and perfect charm. My heart turns in my chest. I swallow. It has to be the wine.

“What’d he say?”

“If you two assholes are going to run a scam, at least make it a profitable one.” He shakes his head. “Then he hauled us out of there by our collars.” He turns to Vadka. “Youwere there. You could’ve helped a brother out.”

Vadka takes a slow sip of his drink, unbothered. “And interrupt that level of stupidity? Nah. I was way too busy enjoying the show. If I remember correctly, you did get some time with a pretty little redhead before you were caught.”

“Vadka,” Mariah says, elbowing him.

My fingers tighten around my wine glass. I’m not super into hearing about him with another woman. Matvei grunts and shakes his head but leans in and whispers in my ear, “Jealous,solnyshka?”

I give him a too-sweet smile and shrug. “Not at all,” I whisper back. “I’m just wondering if the girls gave you a refund.”

His grip on my thigh tightens.

Excellent.

I note how Rafail excuses himself from the table. Polina looks after him with interest.

The conversation moves on, but I watch Matvei carefully. He isn’t just an enforcer, a soldier for the Bratva.

This is a man who grew up in a tangled web of loyalty, family, and control.

And somehow, despite it all, he makes me feel like I belong.

Rafail returns to the room, his gaze sharp on mine. “Matvei. A word.”

* * *

Chapter18

MATVEI

I don't like being apartfrom Anissa. But when Rafail tells me to do something, I fucking do it. That's part of the problem, really.

"She's fine," he says, casting a narrow glance at Anissa, who's talking to Zoya.

Should we be worried about that?

"I remember what you told me before I got her," I say, meeting his eyes as we walk side by side to his study, a private place where he sometimes holds meetings, but typically only between those closest to him.

"Is she pregnant yet?" Rafail asks. I want to deck him, but I don’t have a death wish.

I shake my head. It's only been a matter of weeks, but it definitely wouldn't be for lack of trying. "No."

"Has she tried to run?" he asks, half rolling his eyes as he adds, "again?"

Fire burns in my veins. I love Rafail like my goddamn brother, but I do not like where these questions are going.

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