Chapter 3 #2
“You,” I seethe, a flash of memory causing tears to well in my eyes. My mother, thin and frail, pleading with Semyon at the worn table in my kitchen. “You pretend as if you care anything about me… as if you didn’t turn your back on my family. As if my mother’s death isn’t your fault!”
I jab my finger at his chest.
He lets me.
“You act as if you’re the one in control—as if you need the fucking money my brother owes you—when you own this entire city and half of Moscow.
You act all calm and collected when I know the truth.
” I blink, hot, fat tears rolling down my cheeks.
I swipe them angrily away. “You’ve already destroyed the only good things I had left in this world and plan on taking the last of it?
You’re a monster, Semyon Kopolov, and the men in this room might lick your goddamn feet to get a crumb from your table, but I remember.
” I jab another finger at his chest, irrationally angry that he isn’t stopping me. “I remember when you were still human.”
Something I can’t quite read flickers behind his glasses in his cold blue eyes. Regret? Guilt? I can’t tell, and it doesn’t matter because all that stands before me now is the heartless monster who abandoned my family who loved him for the coldhearted Bratva.
“Just sayin’, I am not licking anyone’s feet,” Rodion mutters, which earns him a few snickers and a sharp backhand to the head from a thick guy sitting next to him I don’t recognize.
I can’t stop seething, can’t stop fuming at him.
“I came here to tell you,” I hiss, my voice breaking, “that no matter how much power you have, no matter how untouchable you think you are, I know better.” My lower lip wobbles, and my voice drops.
“And I hate you. You want my family’s bakery?
You want to come in and destroy what’s left of my family? Kill me first, Semyon.”
He wraps his hand around my finger and presses my hand down as he speaks in an unnervingly calm voice. “Finished yet, sweetheart?”
Tacking on a term of endearment? The absolutely condescending asshole.
How dare he?
I ignore the warm feel of his hand on mine.
“Nope,” I seethe because I’m just warming up. “I came here to tell you that no matter how untouchable you are, you’ll never be anything more than a coward who preys on the innocent. You can take everything from me, and you’ll still have to live with that.”
Rodion mutters something under his breath, but the guy sitting next to him—I can see it’s his cousin now—smacks him again.
Semyon’s frigid stare rests on me with mild curiosity. “Are you done?”
I stare at him. “So you don’t deny it, then? None of it?”
The cold look in his eyes is unwavering. “You’ll be quiet now. I gave you your turn to speak, which was more than you deserved. Now it’s my turn.”
Strong fingers encircle my wrists, his grip unyielding yet controlled as he effortlessly restrains both of my hands in a single one of his.
Damn.
My chest heaves, and no matter how hard I fight it, heat ripples across my skin. He may be a monster, but he’s a beautiful one.
Up close, he’s overwhelming, every inch of him exuding raw alpha male and unfettered masculinity. The faint shadow of stubble along his jaw only sharpens the angles of his face. I can see that though his eyes are distant, there’s a smoldering fire in their depths behind his fortress of control.
In seconds, I take it all in—the black fabric of his shirt clinging to the broad expanse of his chest, his strong arms and torso, the way heat and power radiate off him like a predator ready to strike.
I open my mouth to tell him off again when he taps my lips with his free hand. “I said it’s my turn, little Anya. You’ll be quiet and listen to me now and not speak again unless I give you permission. If you do, I’ll gag you and give my men a show. Understood?”
My mouth drops open in outrage, but he continues. “You came in here uninvited. Disrespected me in front of my men. You think you know all about my world and who I am, do you?”
Leaning in so close. I stare at his perfect white teeth that he bares at me like a wolf with barely restrained energy. My eyes dip down. His hands are clenched.
He's holding himself back. My heart thumps.
“Let me tell you something, Anya,” he says, low and calm. “First, behavior like this will never go unpunished. You crossed a line, and there will be consequences.”
Fear claws at my chest when the grip on my wrists tightens to painful. I can see the scar that runs across his hand from the night his parents were killed, and he tried to save them.
“And second. You really don’t understand anything about my world. But you’re about to learn.”
I shake my head as if I can deny it and somehow make him hear reason and fall to his knees, repentant.
What did I actually expect from him? I didn’t think that far ahead.
“Call Rafail,” he snaps at someone to his left, who leaps to his feet, his phone already at his ear. “I want him to know what I’m doing next.”
Oh god. Rafail is the family pakhan, his oldest brother, the beast that rules his family and Moscow with an iron fist.
“There’s only one way to ensure your family’s safety and settle this debt, Anya.”
I stare at him. So he’ll consider it, then? I may have lost my temper and come barging in here, but maybe he’s actually listened to me? Maybe he has a shred of humanity in him after all?
“You mean there’s a chance?” I ask, unable to keep the hope out of my voice.
“A chance to keep what’s left of your family intact?” His words are sharp, laced with condescension that cuts deep. I hear the insult loud and clear but force myself to ignore it. I have to. I won’t get a second chance.
He nods, his gaze unreadable. “Yes. But a chance your outburst and disrespect will go unpunished? No.”
Fear skates down my spine. I hold his gaze, but his expression remains stonelike, a mask of calm authority that makes my stomach twist.
His voice drops, each word deliberate and heavy. “You’ll marry me.”
For a moment, my world tilts. I blink once, twice, my mind scrambling to catch up. Surely I misheard him.
I’m… stunned. Marry my mortal enemy?
“Marry you?” The words tumble from my lips. It doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Why? Why would he say this? Why would he even want this?
He doesn’t answer right away, and the silence stretches. The weight of his gaze and his words keep me rooted in place.
Leave my baby brother to the mercies of my alcoholic father and whoever decides to take advantage of him?
“I…” My voice falters, and I make myself swallow the lump rising in my throat. “You can’t be serious.”
But deep down, I already know the truth. Semyon Kopolov never says anything he doesn’t mean.
“Marry you? Give myself to the man who single-handedly destroyed my family? You can’t force me into this. And I can’t imagine you’d actually want to be wed to someone who hates you.” I shake my head. It isn’t computing.
He lazily drags his gaze down the length of my body, lingering on my neck, lower to where my mother’s jacket has slipped down, revealing the threadbare top that barely covers my shoulders.
Without a word, he bends as if he’s going to kiss me.
My heart races, and I’m so confused by my intuitive reaction that I freeze.
But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he closes his eyes and inhales as if he’s in the presence of the world’s most precious flower. I stare in disbelief.
He opens his eyes. “Are you able to pay the debt or not?” he asks, the cruelty in his voice telling me he already knows I can’t.
“Of course I can’t.” Even if I gave him every penny of the bakery’s earnings for years, I could never repay him.
“You have no choice, then. Your family has nothing else to offer.” He leans in, his tone chilling. “This isn’t about what you want, Anya. This is about survival.”
A voice booms from the doorway. “A good solution, brother. Let her earn her family’s safety the hard way.” I turn to see Rafail Kopolov, Moscow’s most wanted and Semyon’s eldest brother, leaning casually against the doorframe, his steely gaze fixed on me.
Semyon clears his throat. I turn back to him.
“I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide. But know this. If you refuse, your brother’s blood and the fate of your family are in your hands.” He turns to Rodion and jerks his chin at him. “Take her home.”