Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
"It would depend on his reasoning," I answer, my voice hard. Just because I’m family by affiliation doesn’t make me obedient to any of them. "If it was good enough, maybe. But I don’t miss work, Semyon.”
He blows out a breath.
"I figured as much. But in the past few years, you were the one who spied for us. You got information that was sensitive and passed it on. And nothing's come across at all?"
My heart races, and I’m getting nervous now. He’s right. I haven’t heard anything or seen anything. Haven’t had anybody come to me.
If anything, that in itself is a warning sign.
I nod and tell him quietly,” Not at all.”
Semyon frowns. “The Irish killed your sister, Ruthie. Vadka has retaliated. It’s been a fucking bloodbath. You’re not safe."
God. Why haven’t I stayed in touch with Vadka? Asked questions? Why has nobody told me?
Maybe they didn’t know.
"Okay—what are you saying?"
Semyon blows out a breath and shoves his hands in his pockets.
"What I’m telling you is—I know you’re just his sister-in-law, but whatever the hell he tells you to do, do it. Especially if you have anything to do with him or his son. They’re ruthless, Ruthie. Ruthless. There’s nothing they won’t do.”
I look back toward Anya and Luka, suddenly afraid for my nephew.
"Don’t worry about them," Semyon says quietly. "We have three armed guards. They block and monitor each entrance—quietly. We don’t want to scare away the customers, but they’re there.”
I nod.
"Where are you going next?"
"We were going grocery shopping and then—"
He shakes his head. "No. That’s not a good idea. Probably safest for you to stay here or go back to the family home.”
Okay. All right. I can do this.
Why hasn’t Vadka called me? Why does the warning have to come from Semyon?
And why does that make me feel so sad?
Luka comes trotting out, holding a bag of cookies, a smear of frosting on his lip.
"Looks like you had a taste," I say with a smile, trying to keep my tone light and airy.
I glance at my phone and realize I’ve missed five messages and phone calls from Vadka. My heart leaps into my throat. Even while I feel that leap, I also feel momentary relief. He did try to reach me. Us.
"Oh my god," I whisper. "I didn’t realize…"
"What happened?" Semyon is immediately alert. His shoulders pull back, and his eyes snap to mine.
"Vadka did try to reach me, but my phone was on silent. Shit. I think I know what happened—Luka had my phone. He was watching a show back at your house, and he must’ve accidentally put it on silent."
Shit.
I shake my head. The kid is smarter than I think. Probably didn’t want his show interrupted.
"That tracks," Semyon says. "Call Vadka back—and tell me what he wants you to do."
I nod, feeling like I’m almost in a sort of daze.
Okay, all right, I can do this. One step at a time.
I’m safe right now. Luka’s safe right now.
I’ve got this.
"Auntie Ruthie? Are we going home?" Luka asks, and I can tell he’s already tired.
"Soon, baby. But right now, you’re gonna go back with Grandfather and Auntie Zoya, okay?"
"Can I go with you to bring Grandma her cookies?"
"Not this time. I’m sorry," I say quietly. "Grandma doesn’t feel well. We have to wait until she’s better, okay?"
He nods, thankfully oblivious to the lump in my throat and the way my voice wavers. Semyon may be too—but his wife isn’t. She gives me a smile, warm and full of encouragement, and I realize then that I can handle sympathy. I can handle encouragement. But pity?
Pity makes me feel like I’m not capable of handling hard things.
And I am.
I’m still here, aren’t I?
It doesn’t take long to get back to the Kopolov family mansion. By the time we arrive, Rodion, the youngest Kopolov brother, and his wife Ember are there. He’s got an adorable, fluffy puppy on a leash with him.
"The newest addition to the family," he says brightly, and Luka drops the cookies in the back seat of the car and runs to go see the puppy, who licks his face with so much excitement and enthusiasm—then promptly pees in the garden.
"Good boy!" Rodion says with a big grin. "See? I told you he’d train quickly."
Red-haired Ember gives him a smile.
"He peed because he was excited, not because he’s trained, Rodion. But I think you’re right. I’m pretty sure he is going to train really quickly. Aren’t you, baby?" she says, scratching his ears.
"Uh, does Rafail know you’re bringing a puppy into the house?" I ask.
Ember still talks in her baby voice to the dog, though she’s answering my question.
"Would be bad if Rafail doesn’t know, but it won’t hurt him, will it?" she says, and I can’t help but crack a smile.
I need to come here more often. It’s so fucking good to be near family again. Even if it’s found family, I’m welcome here.