Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
My tempest.
I remember the way heat rose in my chest and my hands acted of their own accord. She has the ability to make me behave in a way no one else ever has.
I call my sister Yana. She answers on the first ring. “We have a wedding to plan. Nothing fancy, Yana. I want it brief and businesslike, only our family and associates.”
“So I heard. Are you sure?” she asks, her voice, as usual, dripping with sarcasm. “Because I was just about to book the Kremlin and order matching tiaras for everyone. You’re killing my vision here, Semyon.”
“Yana.”
“Alright. I’m on it.”
I’d planned my encounter with Anya with surgical precision, and her storming in here tonight wrecked those plans. Yet something about her passion and fury… I’m fighting the urge to… feel.
And that’s what scares me most of all.
Chapter 5
ANYA
I barely process how I get home. I don’t really know Semyon’s brother Rodion. He was young when his parents died, and I always got the impression Rafail kept him close to home. Semyon was the only one in their family who came to our house.
I know Rodion got married to a woman from the States. But everyone knows when a man of the Kopolov Bratva marries.
I suspect I might like Rodion if I talked with him—he seems the softer of the three brothers, though I should know by now that my first impressions of people suck.
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 his damn 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 that will come 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 at her for dying and leaving me to bear the burden of this alone.