Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Chapter 25
ANISSA
I wake up, and even though he told me he wouldn’t be here, I still feel for him.
I like the reassuring weight of him next to me in bed.
I don’t know where he’s gone; all I know is that he asked me to trust him.
So I push myself up, blanket sliding off my shoulders, scanning the room…
And that’s when I see it. A small, pale-blue crystal sitting on the nightstand. It’s smooth, set carefully next to a scrap of paper. I unfold the note.
Supposedly this one wards off nightmares or bad vibes or whatever the fuck. The internet said it was calming. Don’t laugh. It’s pretty, like you.
My phone buzzes with a text, and my heart thumps in my chest. Oh my god, I’ve got it bad. I think I might love the man.
Love. Well, fucking hell.
I really do think I love him.
But when I look at my phone, there’s nothing from Matvei. Just Polina.
Polina
Hey, just checking in. How are you feeling today?
I smile and text her back.
Much better, thanks.
Polina
Oh good. I know that Matvei is out today, and I also know that he’s put heavy security at the gates for you. Didn’t want to wake you, but he was chatting with Rafail early this morning.
Maybe Anya and I can come by later tonight? After we’re done with errands with Stefan, we’ll bring food from her bakery.
Wait. What?
Anya has a bakery?
Polina
Anya just happens to own the most delicious bakery this side of Moscow.
Oh my god, I love that. Wait—does she really? Does she have sharlotka cake?
My mouth is already watering at the thought of the layers of flaky pastry and apples.
Polina
It’s her specialty, and those are my number one favorite.
Me too.
Polina
Maybe that weird stuff they say about twins being separated is actually true.
Polina
Maybe it is. And… Do you also drink ice-cold diet soda for breakfast?
Nope. I’m a coffee girl.
Polina
Ugh, betrayal.
Minutes pass, no message. Am I being too weird, too forward, too—
Sorry, Rafail was talking to me, and he gets really impatient.
You don’t say.
Polina
Stay busy and try to get some movement in—it’ll help with the whole recovery thing. We’ll be by later this afternoon
Okay, sounds good.
Matvei has a home gym, of course, fully decked out. I get a good sweat on, and damn, it does feel good. I walk on the treadmill and do some body-weight movements, nothing too intense.
And yet, as I move about his house, making food, doing laundry, something feels off. I know I have to trust him, and I do… to an extent. But I have the nagging feeling that his mission today had something to do with what I told him.
I know that he’s got an intense job description, so it isn’t outside the realm of possibility that he’s doing anything from going to pick up more ammo, overseeing a gun trade, or kicking the teeth in of someone who betrayed them. I have no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but I can’t shake this eerie feeling. Something isn’t right.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I look to see if it’s Matvei or Polina, but instead, it’s an unknown number. I stare at the screen, and before I click the button, I look out the window just to remind myself that there are armed guards at every entrance of this place.
Why do I feel… scared? I’m not usually afraid, but I am now. It feels like the stakes are higher. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to run. I don’t want to leave. I found a home, a place where I want to be.
I click, surprised to see it’s actually… Cillian O’Rourke.
Cillian
You need to leave, Anissa. Now. You’re in danger.
I hesitate. What? He doesn’t send warnings without reason.
Who? What are you talking about? Is it Interpol?
Cillina
No, thought it was, but they’ve got bigger fish to fry. Looks like it’s someone within
What the fuck is he talking about? The Irish aren’t the ones coming for me, the law isn’t—
Cillian
You need to leave
I check my surroundings again. Matvei isn’t here, and I know he’s getting revenge. For me. He doesn’t need me to approve it; he’s doing it because that’s who he is.
I dial his number, and to my surprise, he answers right away. He’s breathing heavily into the phone.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, but I got—I got a text from O’Rourke," I tell him.
"What’s he saying?" He grunts into the phone.
"He told me that I’m in trouble and that I have to run. He says there’s someone in the family, Matvei."
"That’s impossible. Fucking O’Rourke. We’ve all taken oaths to each other. It couldn’t be. Stay there. I’m coming back for you soon."
"Are you sure?" I ask, feeling strangely uneasy.
"I’m sure. I want you to go to our bedroom and lock it from the inside. Do you understand me?"
I nod, even though he can’t see me. "Yeah. You said you have guards here, that it’s safe."