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)
Rafail’s voice cuts like a whip, his tone one you don’t argue with. Silence falls immediately as everyone else stops breathing. I gulp a sip of water.
Rodion raises his hands in surrender, and I let out a breath.
“Easy, brother,” Rodion says, shaking his head, but he clamps his mouth shut when he catches Rafail’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”
For once, I’m glad they do what Rafail tells them. I blow out a breath of relief as the others talk among themselves.
As we’re finishing, Rafail and Semyon start clearing the table. “Where’s Gleb? We need to talk.”
Eduard looks sharply at him.
My stomach clenches. Either I’m going to get some answers or more evasion.
“I’ll get him.” Matvei pushes away from the table and marches over to the door, pounding on it. “Dude, get up. We need to talk.”
There’s no answer. Rafail opens and loads the dishwasher as Matvei knocks again. Eduard and Irma are busy over by the liquor cabinet.
I sit at the table, not wanting to push my luck. Rafail’s like a ticking time bomb. I’m not far behind him.
Matvei knocks again, and once more, I’m thankful for Rafail’s bossy ways because my own patience is wearing thin. He levels a look at Matvei. “Open the fucking door before I do.”
Matvei turns the handle hard.
Rafail looks at me, his dark eyes focused on me as if I’m the only person in this room. I swallow hard.
I want to make up.
I want to tell him I love him.
I want to throw my arms around him and tell him that I love him, but more than anything… I want the truth.
And something tells me Gleb’s the next step in that direction.
“Rafail!” Matvei yells from the room. We all go still as Rafail crosses the kitchen and heads to their bedroom as Matvei comes to the door. His face is red with rage, his hands clenched into fists. “He’s gone. That fucking bastard’s gone.”
A glass crashes to the floor. I look to see Eduard hastily cleaning up the drink Irma dropped while Rafail curses and asks questions.
“He was here when we were talking. I went over to Rodion and Semyon’s room before dinner, and I haven’t gone back in, so he had to have left between then and now.”
“Did you see him?” Rafail asks Grandfather.
“I haven’t. I was in the kitchen helping prepare dinner. There are so many of us here, in and out of the rooms, I didn’t take note.”
“How could he have gotten out?” I ask, shaking my head. “That’s not possible. We have guards outside this door.” My stomach aches.
He shakes his head as he pulls out his phone. “The rest of you, check every room in this place thoroughly.”
“Mine’s been locked since I left it,” Yana whispers. Matvei pushes past his parents and enters their room. He comes back a few seconds later and shakes his head.
“Our room is clear,” Rodion says, his jaw tight and weapon drawn. “He’s not here. That motherfucking son of a bitch… I’ll fucking kill him.”
Irma glares at him, but I’ve never been prouder.
Rafail shakes his head and makes a call. He puts it on speaker.
“We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Popov’s voice is as tight and angry as Rafail’s as he fills him in.
“Permission to open the door and speak to your men?” Rafail asks. I can tell it takes a lot for him to ask someone for permission.
“Granted.”
Rafail gestures for all of us to stand back. Everyone is quick to obey before he opens the door. On cue, the Popov guards raise their weapons in perfect sync, the clicks echoing like the clicking of a grenade. But Rafail doesn’t flinch. He stands tall, still commanding the space around him as though daring them to make a move. He’s the one in control here, and everyone knows it.
My heart slams against my ribs, every beat a reminder of how close we are to unraveling. Zoya stifles a gasp beside me, but I can’t tear my eyes from Rafail. He’s deadly still. I reach wordlessly for Zoya’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
A phone rings, and one of the guards holds up a hand to the others.
"Nam prikazano otstupit,” he snarls. We’ve been ordered to stand down.
Rafail stands fearlessly in their midst, the call to Popov still on speaker.
“One of our party is no longer here. Check your ranks.” His words are a sharp command that can’t be ignored. No hesitation, no weakness—Rafail’s in control, and anyone who dares challenge him will regret it.
The guards stare at each other and quickly do what he says. Popov and Rafail talk to each other quietly until the first guard comes back to him.
“Sir,” he says to Popov. “We’re down a man.”
Rafail goes deadly still. “So one of your men was in league with my cousin,” he begins. “We need to find everything we can.”