Chapter 20

“ANISSA”

Our car is waiting for us, and as the door shuts, I hear a commotion where we just left. Voices shout, and I swear… the voices are vaguely familiar.

My husband looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

“What was that?” I ask Rafail.

“I have no idea.” He shakes his head. “Trouble.”

But he doesn’t meet my eyes. The feeling that he’s hiding something from me intensifies as memories of my past that don’t resonate with what he’s told me leave me feeling confused and bewildered.

“Rafail—” I don’t know how to continue. I don’t know what to say.

Leaning in closer to me, he wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Maybe it was too much, taking you out like this, especially when we’re meeting up with my family.”

But no. It isn’t. I don’t like being sheltered and made to feel like I’m too fragile to handle whatever happens. I hate it, and there’s something about it that triggers a similar memory.

“What is it?” he asks. “You’re pulling away from me.”

I am, in more ways than one. I know I am.

“I’m just… confused. And a little scared,” I tell him truthfully.

I love being with him. I love how protective and strong he is. I’m in a place where I’m wildly vulnerable and unsure of who I can trust. His strength brings me security when I waffle. Even his power and control call to me on a deep, primal level. But beneath his stern, unyielding, even angry exterior—I see the vulnerability he hides. Behind his implacable facade is a deep well of pain, the scars of past betrayal and loss of those he loved. And I love that so much it makes my heart ache.

“That’s alright.” The heavy weight of his arms around my shoulders, the surety of his words and the comfort of his presence make me feel as if he truly does understand. “It will become easier. You’ll see. Trust me to take care of you, and as you say… it will come alright in the end.”

Maybe I’ve imagined anything less? Maybe my confusion led me to believe the one person I can trust above all?

Because from the moment I first met him—or woke, anyway, as if it were our first meeting—there was an undeniable pull between us. Even when I’ve been unsure of who I am or who he is, what his motives are or where my place is, the primal attraction between us is undeniable. He’s dangerous and powerful and utterly, madly devoted to… me.

I rest my hand atop his as we drive through the city streets. Rafail’s alert, as always, even as he holds and comforts me. I can’t help but love this about him too—his intense, commanding nature. It fascinates me how he commands not only his empire and family but the very space around him.

Maybe I have a thing for "alpha male in control" because, goddamn, it's intoxicating. The power play between us thrums hot and electric, cutting through my fears and uncertainties. Even when my past is an enigma and my future a blank slate, there's a dark, twisted freedom with him—a freedom from societal expectations and empty conventions, from the illusion of safety. With him, I can forge a new future, a new identity, even as we’re deeply entrenched in this criminal world of his… No, of ours .

“Sometimes, I swear to fuck, I can feel your mind whirring like a machine,” he says, reaching for my hand to bring my fingers to his lips. I shiver with the warmth of his lips on my skin before he places the flat of my palm on his chest. His heart beats madly beneath my touch. I swallow hard.

“Yeah. I wish I could stop it. I really do, but the past weeks have felt like speed dating or something.” I shake my head.

“The fuck is speed dating?” I stifle a giggle at the look of consternation, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

“It’s like a fast-paced version of the real thing. You remove the fluff and dive right into the actual meat. It’s intentional, with the purpose of meeting multiple people in a single evening instead of stretching it out over weeks.” I poke at his chest. “Maybe consider it for Zoya.”

I expect him to growl in response, and I’m not disappointed. “The hell I will. She’s not dating.”

Outside the tinted window of the car, the view begins to slow. We’re approaching our destination.

“Rafail, you can’t keep her locked up in your tower forever.”

He grunts, frowning. “Why not?”

I sigh. “Yana’s married though?”

His eyes cloud over, and he looks away. “That was to keep her safe. It was her choice, and I allowed it.”

Even though I know he’s being facetious, to an extent, I… I know this argument. No one’s good enough. I close my eyes at another rush of memories.

I’m standing with the woman I now know to be my mother. My brother—one of them—is arguing with her. It’s prom night in high school, and I want to go on a date.

No one is good enough for her.

They said it was too dangerous, too risky for me to go alone without one of them with me. I remember I finally went with a group of girls, as any of the guys in my school wouldn’t come anywhere near me, not with all those dangerous brothers on the periphery.

I remember…

I remember…

I wore a light blue gown with glitter accents and silvery heels. My long blonde hair was piled on my head in loops and swirls. I felt like Cinderella waiting for Prince Charming; only my enchanted pumpkin was a luxury town car, and the guards who accompanied me were three of my oldest brothers.

My god.

I remember.

“We’re here,” Rafail says. I blink as if waking from a memory. It feels as if my amnesia’s begun to unravel as fragmented memories surface. Bits of my past swim in front of me, but I have no time to dwell.

I’m not sure I want to.

The car comes to a halt outside a restaurant. I half expect uniformed valets, but this is a more casual affair. The people entering the restaurant are dressed informally and hardly look at us as we pass. I like it this way. The last thing I want to do is be noticed by anyone.

When we get inside, however, the hostess’s eyes go wide behind her glasses as she sees us. “Mr. Kopolov.”

Rafail nods to me. “And Mrs. Kopolov, yes.”

My heart does a little flip in my chest. I love when he calls me that when he claims me. And the way his fingers lace into mine, at once a reminder that I’m his… I tell myself I shouldn’t fret so much about what I don’t know and hold on instead to what I do. Maybe my identity as Anissa Kopolov is all that matters.

Rafail Kopolov—stern, unyielding, powerful, and sometimes angry… passionate and devoted, fearless and brave—loves me. Me.

I hold his hand, feeling a bit shy, as she leads us to a back room. Before we even enter, we can hear chatter and laughter.

I’ll know some people here, anyway, and I’m thankful when I see the familiar faces of Zoya and Yana. Zoya waves at us and beckons us to come over to her, but Rafail is still saying hello to a few people.

“Ah, there’s the happy couple.” His grandfather is small and frail, but his eyes remind me of Rafail’s, and beneath his calm demeanor lies undeniable strength. His warm eyes and soft voice don’t bely the power he holds. “Welcome. Come, come. Have a seat. Have some wine.”

He gestures to the two vacant seats next to Zoya’s, but Rafail’s still scouting the room. He nods to his friend Vadka and to Semyon, Rodion, and a few other unfamiliar faces I don’t recognize. He introduces me to a few cousins.

“Matvei, Gleb, meet my wife Anissa.”

“Oh,” I say with a smile. “We didn’t meet at the wedding?”

The two men look sharply at Rafail, who only shakes his head. “I’m sorry, she’s forgotten a lot, but her memory’s slowly coming back.” My cheeks flush. Is he embarrassed by me?

“I’m-I’m sorry,” I stammer.

“You’re fine,” Matvei says, extending his hand. He’s a large guy like the others, with broad shoulders and a quiet intensity. Even though he’s not as outwardly threatening as Rafail, his presence alone commands respect.

Noted.

“Your husband is like an older brother to me,” Matvei says with a smile. “We grew up together, and I look up to him. I’m pleased to meet you.”

I smile at him. “He’s everyone’s older brother, isn’t he?” I hold onto his arm, his bicep taut beneath my hand.

Leaning in, he brushes his lips to my cheek.

“Not everyone’s,” his other cousin says with a smirk that makes me feel a little uneasy. “Gleb.” Gleb is more slender than his brother, with sharp features and a charming smile I can’t trust. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and I’m immediately on edge. “So you’re the woman who finally got Rafail to settle down. Must be quite the story.”

I glance at Rafail. Settle down?

Why has it never occurred to me that there were other women before me? Settle down ? How many women were there before me?

“Oh, I guess you could say that.” I laugh.

Gleb winks at me. Rafail’s muscles tighten under my hand, but his face remains placid. “We’ll have to hear all about it sometime. I bet with my cousin here, it isn’t all candlelit dinners and diamonds.”

“Oh,” I say lightly with a lame attempt at a laugh. “He’s pretty damn good with those candlelit dinners and diamonds if I say so myself.”

Rafail stifles a low growl. “Good girl,” he says softly. “Let’s keep the questions to a minimum, Gleb. I’d much rather hear about your adventures in America. You spent some time in New York, didn’t you?”

America. My heart aches for reasons I can’t quite understand.

Rafail pulls out the chair next to Zoya, who leans in and whispers in my ear, “Now, don’t worry about him at all. Gleb’s a jerk. Matvei’s alright, though, you’ll see.”

But his cousin isn’t finished. “It’s not every day we get to meet the new Mrs. Kopolov.”

Rafail grimaces at Semyon. “Did you let Gleb get into the wine again? We talked about that.”

Gleb’s eyes flash at Rafail so quickly that I think I may have imagined it. “Just be careful around him. Life with Rafail can be…” He leans forward. “Intense.”

I smile. “Oh, I’ve noticed. I happen to like intense. Life isn’t all fun and games, you know?” I give him a wink back and take the glass of water Rafail offers me.

Rafail’s warm, firm hand on my thigh sends a shiver down my spine, somehow both approval and a warning to behave. I half flirt with the idea of pushing, just to see what he’ll do, but the memory of this morning’s still fresh in my mind.

So, while they talk about business and football and the American version of vodka, which they all seem to despise, I talk with Zoya about which dress she should wear to her upcoming semi-formal.

“Have you asked your brother about that yet?” I whisper to her.

“Oh no,” she says with a little smile that’s part grimace. “I was, uh, sort of hoping you would.”

I nod. “Of course I will.” When he’s drunk on sex and half-asleep, I think.

I don’t have to remind myself that I’m in the presence of criminals. That my husband runs a powerful empire, but that none of these people here, not one, not even sweet little Zoya, is innocent.

The way Rafail constantly scans the room, continually vigilant. The glint of metal on Semyon’s hip when he stands to welcome another cousin and aunt. The waitstaff’s furtive glances and rush to immediately make sure the food is served promptly and our glasses are constantly filled.

Uncle Eduard smiles at me as he helps himself to yet another glass of wine. “You’ve married right into a ready family, Anissa,” he says while Rafail is busy talking to Gleb and Matvei. “He’s been a father to these hoodlums for years now. Should make it easy to start a family of your own, you think?”

I blink, startled at the directness of his comment. “Well, when the time is right,” I say with a shrug, though my heart races at the thought. “And even though he’s their older brother, it seems?—”

Matvei cuts in with a grin. “Seems he’s already had plenty of practice raising a family, huh?”

Rafail gives a half-hearted smile, but when I look at him, he winks at me. My tummy flips.

“Rafail is too humble to tell you, but he was on his way to college when… when the accident happened,” his grandfather says. “I bought him a suitcase, and he was ready.” His voice grows softer. “Ready to fly away, weren’t you, son?”

I look at Rafail in surprise. For some reason, it never occurred to me that he’d ever wanted anything more than what he has, right here, with his family.

“My flight was supposed to leave that night,” Rafail says, a note of wistfulness in his voice. “When I got the call.”

My heart hurts for the man he had to become so quickly, so unexpectedly. “And you had to cancel everything?”

“Of course,” he says with a smirk. “It took every second of my time keeping these hoodlums in line.”

Semyon snorts, and their grandfather shakes his head, his worn, leathery face all creases as he smiles. “If that isn’t the understatement of the year. I tried to help, but I couldn’t keep up with them. There was a time they were wild , and my days of reining in terrors were past.”

Matvei snorts and shakes his head. “ Jesus , do you remember that time Rodion decided to ‘borrow’ Rafail’s car for a joyride? What were we, sixteen?”

Rodion’s smile is a little pained as he rubs the back of his neck and gives Rafail a sheepish smile.

“I remember it well,” Rafail says with a pointed look. He doesn’t appear quite as amused as the rest of them, but even his serious eyes spark with a hint of humor.

“We were fourteen ,” Rodion admits, shaking his head. “And we had fun, didn’t we? Until, uh… until Rafail caught us.”

Rafail growls next to me. “Yeah, nearly driving yourself straight into a river sounds like excellent fun.”

“Oof,” I say with a grimace. “You two! Did you really?”

“Oh,” Rafail says, shaking his head. “They did. Once , anyway.”

“You got that right,” Matvei says, his eyes bright with laughter. “He dragged us out of that car so fast, my head was spinning. And the look on his face? I thought he was going to kill us right there.”

“I thought about it,” Rafail says dryly, making everyone laugh.

“No, instead of killing us, he made sure we wished we were dead,” Rodion adds with a grin. “Good enough, right?”

Matvei shakes his head. “Yeah, that was kind of a turning point, I think. Didn’t pull that shit again.”

My chest tightens as I take in their words. The man who had dreams and hopes beyond the city of Moscow and the confines of family had to give it all up. He had to step into the role of protector, laying aside what he wanted to keep what he already had.

Right then, I feel the weight of responsibility alongside him. I want to help him shoulder it. He might be grumpy and intense and so bossy it sometimes makes me want to scream, but I feel it—an undeniable pull to the boy he left behind.

I want to give him back some of the freedom he surrendered.

I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. In response, he nestles my one hand in both of his as the waitstaff clears our dishes and brings out large platters of dessert plates with shimmering pudding and layered cake.

“Ooooh,” Zoya says, her eyes dancing. “Their chocolate cake is epic , Anissa.”

I nod along with her. “I might not remember everything, but I can say with absolute certainty that I love chocolate cake.”

Suddenly, another memory surfaces, like a snapshot from another life I once lived. Honest to god, if I didn’t believe in reincarnation before this, I sure as hell do now.

My brothers—I remember a few names now.

Mikhail. Viktor. Lev.

My heart aches.

Their laughter echoes around me as I reach for a slice of chocolate layer cake. My mother, her gentle smile lighting up her wrinkled face, cuts me a piece and tugs my hair. “Had them make your favorite,” she says, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

I blink, and the memory slips away like a fading dream.

“Anissa?” Zoya looks at me with concern. “Would you like a piece?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. If I talk, I’m going to cry. Rafail’s intense gaze sweeps over mine. Wordlessly, he brushes a thumb across the top of my hand. Reassuring me. Leaning in, his breath is hot at my ear. “Do we need to go?”

I swallow the lump in my throat and force a smile. “Not until I have that cake, please.”

A commotion sounds out the window, and like they did at home, in the kitchen, every damn one of them comes to immediate attention. Rodion is the first to get up, pushing away from the table so fast his chair hits the floor. I stare, my fork suspended over the cake, as Rafail snaps into commander mode. Even his uncle and grandfather look immediately to him.

“Semyon, guard the door. Matvei, go with Rodion. Gleb, you stay here. Yana, scan the outer perimeter on surveillance and see what the fuck is going on out there.”

As everyone runs to obey, he leans in close to me and slides an index finger under my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “You do exactly what I say.”

I nod, both terrified of whatever’s happening and confident he’ll take care of me. Of all of us.

“Could be anything,” his grandfather says to me, leaning in to take a sip of his coffee. “Someone cut someone else off. They had heated words. Some idiot hit another guy for flirting with his girl. People do dumb things all the time.” He doesn’t need to supply the rest of his sentence because I already know. They don’t have the luxury of assumptions.

And yet… this all feels familiar, just like it did before. The shift from lighthearted memories to being on guard, ready to protect each other, doesn’t exactly catch me off guard. It’s second nature now and hints at a past I can’t remember in detail, but one that’s not very dissimilar to the present.

Yana speaks first. “They’re here for us, Rafail.” She’s on her feet, her phone in her hand. “The Popov family is here for you.” Her eyes go straight to his. “And they’re looking for you.”