Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“I know that you love me,” I whisper. “I know that you’ll do anything for me. I know that you’ll protect me from whatever comes next, even if neither one of us knows what that is.”
“Yes,” he says simply. “Yes.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and sniffle. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yes,” I whisper vehemently, my need to know the truth choking me. “Tell me what you know. Please.”
But he’s silent for long moments, so long, I wonder if something happened. I reach for his hand, but he’s warm and strong beside me.
“I can’t do that,” he finally says. “I can’t tell you anything. Not yet.”
My jaw drops open in shock. “That’s not fair. I told you everything, even the things I didn’t want to. You can’t refuse to do the same for me!”
“I can and will,” he snarls. I coil away from him. My nose tingles.
“Rafail,” I say reproachfully.
“You heard me,” he snaps. “We’re here. Remember to do exactly what I say. Exactly.”
“You demand my trust and obedience but won’t give me any answers in return. How is that fair, Rafail? What kind of love is this?” My hands are balled into fists.
“You were mafia, Anissa. You ought to know this. All’s never fair in love and war, especially if you’re raised in organized crime. Now behave yourself. Believe me when I tell you… you do not want to cross me right now.”
The air in here feels hot and stuffy. My nose is running, my eyes are swollen, and I’ve given myself a headache. And we’ve only just begun.
“Very nice,” I mutter. “Threatening your wife.”
“Eto ne byla ugroza!”
That was not a threat.
We come to a screeching halt. The door opens, and hands reach for me before there’s the sound of fists slamming on flesh. “Touch her and fucking die.”
Then it’s only Rafail. His familiar, rough but firm touch guiding me out of the car. The blindfold comes off, and I stare in front of me. We’re underground. I can tell by how cold it is here. The floor is concrete, the walls made of stone. Armed guards, standing in military formation holding loaded weapons, watch us with stony faces.
They all give Rafail a wide berth.
We march in silence together. I feel… betrayed. Yes, betrayed by his sudden withdrawal and cold words. I know he’s concerned, but it isn’t right that he expects me to tell him everything with no expectation of him giving me the same courtesy.
But I can’t think of that now, as we’re moving together, his siblings nearby and cousins behind us.
“Blindfolds off. Watch your step.”
I blink in the dim light but quickly find Rafail beside me. I’m pissed at him, and I will demand answers, but I still take no small solace in knowing he’ll protect me… protect all of us.
I quickly observe our surroundings. There isn’t one safe house, but several—a network of brightly lit interconnected rooms. Hidden beneath the city, the entrance is concealed with something up above, but none of us are able to see. The air is cold and damp down here and slightly musty, but it’s swept clean.
Two armed guards in front of us open the door for us. “Entry in or out must be approved by Mr. Popov,” a young, masked guard says. “Only accessible with biometric scanners. Anyone who tries to leave without explicit permission to do so will be immediately executed.”
The door swings open, and he gives us a sardonic smile. “Enjoy your stay.”
Chapter 23
RAFAIL
Popov doesn’t fuck around.
Each safe house feels like a fortress, this place with low, arched ceilings with impenetrable walls of reinforced concrete and steel. The walls are lined with soundproof panels, and the rooms are surprisingly well furnished. The more I look at it, I realize… this isn’t just a hideout but a cage. A cage we could be trapped in for a lot longer than we’re prepared for.
Jesus, I hope we’re not here long-term.
The rooms are windowless but brightly lit, furnished with beds nestled in steel frames and a series of locks on the door.
“Oh, there is a window,” Zoya says excitedly when Rodion shakes his head with a snort.
“That’s one of those panels that looks like a window, but it’s only digital.”
Her face falls, and she stifles a sigh.
“It doesn’t matter,” Semyon says, ever pragmatic. “We’re safe.”
There’s a common area where all the rooms converge, and surveillance cameras are mounted on one wall. It’s furnished with upholstered chairs with a large network of plugs and outlets. Though this place is designed primarily for safety, there’s an undercurrent of luxury. I poke around a bit more. Leave it to Popov to have a well-stocked liquor cabinet, high-quality beds and bedding, and a wall of luxurious soaps and amenities in the bathroom. There’s even a tiny but functional workout room with a weight bench and a cable system.