Chapter 25

RAFAIL

Zoya and Yana sit on the comfortable couches as I leave the room. Popov didn’t have much to offer except a promise to destroy us if we break anything, do anything stupid or dangerous, or leave. None of that’s in the plan, so I let it go.

Zoya looks at me questioningly, but I don’t give her more than she needs to know. “Anissa’s resting,” I say, my voice firm to brook no argument. What Anissa and I shared is ours. She’s mine, and I’ll protect her privacy—just like I’ll protect her from everything else.

Yana frowns toward the bedroom, her gaze more calculating than Zoya’s. She’s so fierce, I almost take a step back. “What did you do to her? I swear to god, Rafail?—”

“She’s fine,” I snap at her. “She’s my wife. What the hell do you think I’d do?”

She blows out a breath and shakes her head as Irma and Eduard come into the room, followed by Matvei. Rodion and Semyon are the last to join.

Rodion leans back, glancing around the room with a grin. “Gotta hand it to Popov, this place is slick. Low profile, secure as hell, but it’s got that… what’s the word? Ambiance. Grit. ” He gestures toward the brick walls and industrial lighting. “Feels real. Someone could drop an atomic bomb, and we’d be safe.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Let’s not test that theory.”

Rodion shrugs, his gaze flicking to the sleek shelves stocked with high-end bottles of whiskey and vodka, but I don’t miss the way his fingers twitch, looking for a distraction. “And the booze? His taste is impeccable. Look at this stuff. Top-shelf, man. A single sip could take off the edge.”

I level him with a look, and he squirms. “Go ahead, drink up,” I say, my voice low with warning. I cross my arms over my chest. “Lose control. That sounds like an excellent idea when everything’s at stake.” I lean forward. “Touch any of that shit, and you’ll regret it.”

Rodion sighs but lifts his hands in surrender. “Point taken, big brother. I’ll admire it from afar.”

I grunt and turn to Matvei, who’s watching us both with a grin, his large frame hunched over on the couch beside Rodion. “Where’s Gleb?”

“Using the bathroom.” He shakes his head. “He takes a while. I swear to fuck, he falls in.”

“Checking in on his—” Semyon’s eyes shoot to Irma and Eduard before he looks back to me. “Investments.”

I’d bet my ass said investments are illegal and dangerous, but I don’t have time to deal with that.

I shake my head and sit on the edge of an ottoman.

“I want to check in with everyone. We need to make sure accommodations are alright.”

“It’s fine,” Eduard says, while Irma looks like she’s bitten into a lemon. “Are you going to tell us why we’re here?”

I nod. “You all know that I trust the Popovs. And what he told me makes sense. We’re all in danger.”

I fill them in as best I can.

“Polina Romanova,” Zoya says, shaking her head. “Are you sure?”

I nod. She looks at the bedroom. “And is she…”

“I don’t know,” I say. I feel like a prick when she flinches as if I struck her. I shake my head. “I need more answers, but I don’t have them, not yet. For now, we believe we may be targeted—perhaps wrongly—by the Romanovs and the cartel.”

“So, how long do we have to stay here?” Irma says with a frown.

“Until I know we’re safe.”

Eduard leans back in his chair and slides his arm over Irma’s neck, but she flinches and pushes him away. He goes on as if she didn’t just disrespect him in front of all of us.

“This place is outfitted for long-term stay, Rafail.”

I nod. “It is, which is reassuring if we need it. We also have secure routers for Wi-Fi, so all of us can continue to work as usual. But I don’t think we’ll need to stay here beyond a few days.”

“Days!” Irma is on her feet. “I can’t stay here for days. I have social commitments and appointments.”

“Sit down, Irma,” Eduard says, fruitlessly of course.

She spins around and glares at him, her eyes masked with thick, false lashes, her bright-red lips pursed. “It’s cramped in here, and the ventilation’s terrible. I suspect the water’s hard, which will absolutely wreck my hair, and I cannot sleep on a bed that hard.”

“The bed’s fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “And you can keep your appointments as soon as we know it’s safe.”

She frowns at me but talks to her husband. “And why do I have to do what he says? He’s a child.”

I hold her gaze. I haven’t been a child in over a decade, and she knows it. “You’ll do what I say because I’m pakhan of this family, and if you challenge me, Irma, I’ll remind you exactly what that means.” My tone is sharp, unyielding, and I see fear flicker in her eyes.

Her jaw drops. “You wouldn’t dare. ”

“Sit down , Irma,” Eduard snaps at the same time Matvei shakes his head and frowns at her.

“He is in charge, and he’s also right.”

She opens her mouth and stares before she finally flounces down on the sofa like a spoiled child. “They’d better have decent food,” she mutters, then thankfully clams up.

“Oh, they do,” Zoya says eagerly. “I’ve inventoried the kitchen. It’s excellent. I’ll be able to keep us well-fed for as long as needed. There’s a fully stocked pantry, and the freezer’s full of meats and fish.”

“Thank you,” I tell her with a little smile. “You won’t be the only one cooking.”

I ignore the others’ groans. No one ever died from burnt toast and overcooked eggs.

“Really, Rafail, the accommodations are fine,” Yana says. “It’s honestly way more comfortable than I expected. Very nice.” Her face is pinched, and I know exactly why. There was no time to take her husband with us. I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze. “I promise we’ll leave as soon as we can.”

Semyon nods in approval. “Not bad at all. We should take notes.”

I nod. “I am.”

Rodion agrees. “You know I like it.”

Matvei shrugs. “My only complaint is having to share a room with Gleb like we’re kids again, but having to deal with him is a small price to pay for security.”

I look back to their door. “Speaking of Gleb. Go check on him, Mat.”

We make a brief plan for who’s cooking what and when with the help of Zoya before she and Rodion head to the kitchen to get dinner started when Matvei finally comes back in. His face is pale, but his eyes are fire when he returns.

“He fell asleep.”

I nod, trying to consider whether or not we should wake him up. I want him present. We all should be. There’s plenty of time to sleep. But in the end, I decide to let it go.

Zoya and Rodion prep dinner, and when I return to the bedroom, Anissa’s resting as well.

“It’s almost dinnertime,” I tell her.

Her back is to me, but I can hear her loud and clear. “I’m not hungry,” she says in a pouty voice.

Sighing, I sit beside her. “You need to eat.”

“I ate plenty earlier.”

I stroke her back, but my mind’s already ten steps ahead. The unknown looms in front of me, and I fucking hate it. This waiting, this powerlessness, is driving me mad.

I continue to rub her back. It seems to soothe me as much as it does her while I fill her in on the meeting.

“Rafail?”

“Yeah.”

“What did Gleb say?”

She rolls over and looks at me, her brow furrowed.

“About what?”

“About what you’ve said tonight.”

“Nothing. He wasn’t there.”

She sits up straighter in bed, her eyes wide as she clutches the sheets. What the hell?

“Where is he?”

“Relax, he was sleeping. What’s going on?”

Wordlessly, she shows me a picture on her phone. “This was from a few years ago.”

I look it over. Cold dread tightens my chest when I see her—my bride, Polina Romanova—smack dab in the center of the Romanov family.

“Do you see him?”

“Who?” She has lots of brothers.

Fuck.

“Look,” she says, stabbing at the screen. I didn’t even notice the smaller boy in the corner of the frame. I squint my eyes before realization hits.

“Is that—Jesus, that looks like Gleb. It’s hard to tell; this is an older photo, and the quality’s shit. But if it is him… why’s he in this picture?”

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t remember him at all. I know that we had galas and auctions; it was an annual event with my family. Can you ask Gleb if he remembers anything?”

I nod. “Yeah, and I’ll ask my uncle too. Did you find any more clothes?”

She points to a small pile on the dresser.

“I did.” Folding her arms over her chest, she gives me a curious look.

“And? Are you going to get changed so you can join us, or what?”

“I told you,” she says stubbornly, her eyes hard. “I’m not coming.”

I step toward her, my voice deep and commanding. My patience is at an all-time low. I thought I already made it very clear that this bullshit won’t fly with me. I take a step closer, my voice dropping to a growl. “You’re coming with me, Anissa. This isn’t a negotiation.” Her defiance burns in her eyes, that fire I crave and want to crush. She straightens, challenging me. God, I fucking love that about her even as I want to shake her.

“No, I’m not.”

I let out a slow breath, moving closer. “This isn’t a debate. You get dressed and get your ass out there for dinner before I carry you there myself.”

I don’t have time for this.

Her eyes flare, but I see her hesitate. She knows I don’t bluff, and it matters to her to save face. “You can’t just?—”

“I can and will,” I growl, my hand brushing her arm as I lean in. “If you think I’m going to let you sit here alone while god knows what happens, you’re wrong. You’re a part of this family now.”

She’s infuriating.

When she opens her mouth to argue, I cut her off. “If you don’t get changed, I swear to god I’ll put you over my knee and make sure you regret it. Or,” I lower my voice, the edge softening but still unyielding, “you can get dressed, come with me, and we’ll handle this together. Your choice.”

Her defiance wavers, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she blows out a frustrated breath. “You really are the beast with all his bluster.”

I shrug, unapologetic. “If the shoe fits.”

“Fine,” she mutters, turning toward the dresser, strategically placing distance between me and her.

I can’t force her into compliance. I can’t force her to like me. Hell, I don’t need her to. But I’ll make damn sure she stays safe, even if she hates me for it. I’ll protect her with everything I have because as much as I want to control her, I’m terrified of losing her.

“You’ll stay with me when I question my uncle and cousin.”