Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I know he loves his family. That he speaks well of his parents and younger siblings, talks with his hands when he tells me stories, a wistful glint in his eyes. It makes sense, I guess, that a girl like me, the youngest, would fall for a man who makes her feel seen.
And I want to go to him. Why did Anya have to have a birthday on a Thursday? Thursdays are usually the easiest day I can sneak away, and now it’s all I can think of.
Finally, finally, Stefan yawns wide and Semyon ruffles his hair. “Time to pack this party up.”
I help them clean, then pretend to head home.
It’s harder than usual to get away—my brothers are home, making plans, watching everything. And it’s late, much later than I mean for it to be, after the birthday party. I think he’ll be gone by the time I get there. Maybe he’ll think I ditched him.
I have it down to a science now as I sneak out through the hedges, my decoy in place… and head to the bar.
But when I walk in, he’s still there, seated in the back corner, nursing a club soda like it’s the only thing anchoring him to this earth.
I walk up to him slowly, my head bowed, biting my lip. “There you are,” he murmurs. “Thought you wouldn’t come. Almost didn’t make it myself,” he adds, shaking his head.
“Did you?” I ask. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Eh,” he mutters. “Don’t want to get into the details. Let’s just say I was… detained for a bit. But I made it out.”
Detained? Made it out? What the hell is he talking about? But I don’t ask. I don’t press.
I don’t want to know.
Do I?
“I made it too,” I say softly, somehow suspecting that my “making it out” without my brothers noticing my deception is a whole other level from his.
But then there’s movement behind us. A tall, lanky guy with a tuft of blond hair and muscles and tats for days leans toward Seamus. Tension cuts through the room like a knife.
“Sir, you need to come here. We need to talk.”
The tone is sharp, urgent. And suddenly I’m on edge. Last time a guy got in his face, I thought someone might lose a tongue. That’s what would happen if they tried it with my brothers. I’ve seen it happen.
So this guy talking to Seamus now is risking everything. It must be important. Seamus’s nostrils flare… eek. He scowls, glances at his phone, then groans under his breath.
“Tonight? For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, his voice low and venomous.
His brows draw tight together. His gaze lifts to the young man beside him, eyes glinting with something dark, more than irritation.
And I know, just from the way Seamus looks at him, this isn’t a friend. This is someone he tolerates. Barely. Maybe even someone he’d rather destroy.
He leans toward me, lowering his voice. “Hold on a minute, Zoya. Just wait.”
He turns and talks over his shoulder to the blond guy.
His phone is right there, screen facing up. I know I shouldn’t look. It feels like spying. But when I see the word Kopolov… I can’t look away.
The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
Kopolovs at Wolf and Moon tonight. Everything in place. Destroy them.
Oh my god.
It takes a minute for my brain to catch up. This is… this is a kill order.
It’s a fucking kill order to destroy my family.
On his phone. In front of me.
I’ve heard my family talk with fear about the man they call The Undertaker. I have a picture in my mind because I’m not new to the underground. I can already picture his wizened features and hard, cold eyes. The way he sits behind a desk, his fingers steepled, as he barks out orders to bring every family that rivals his own to their knees.
Men like him prey on the innocent and have no scruples.
Does he… does Seamus work for The Undertaker?
Panic surges through me. My pulse rings in my ears. I need to do something. I have to stop this. Now.
“Not tonight,” Seamus hisses through gritted teeth.
The man standing near him doesn’t flinch. “This… decision isn’t yours, sir. It came from above.”
I blink, half expecting murder in the next breath.
Seamus curses, then leans over the table and covers his phone with his hand.
But it’s too late.
I’ve already seen it.
I know. I know they’re coming for my family.
“You need to go home, Zoya,” he says sharply. His voice is tight, almost panicked. “Go home. Now.”
He clenches his jaw and swallows hard. Like there’s more he wants to say—but he doesn’t. He can’t.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Seamus… What is this?”
Who are you?
He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me with that same tortured expression.
I want to believe he’s protecting me. That he wants me safe because he cares.