Chapter 7 I think about Seamus for the next week. I can't get him out of my mind, no matter how hard I try. My brother Semyon throws a surprise party for his new wife Anya at her bakery. The place smells like sugar and warm butter, with trays of pirozhki, medovik, and sweet poppyseed rolls covering the counters. We laugh, we eat, we drink too much tea and vodka. It's this cozy, sort of chaos that I usually love. All our friends come. The whole extended family shows up-wives, brothers, even the littlest nieces and nephews, sticky-fingered and wild. We're a big family now, with my brothers' wives and their children, and somehow there's still space for more. "Zoya," Anya says from behind the bakery counter. She beams at all of us, happy to have us here. Anya's had a rough go of it and appreciates the found family she has with us now. "I made your favorite." I have a lot of favorites of hers. I smile at her as I walk behind the counter. Anya's little brother, Stefan, comes at me with a running tackle, nearly knocking me down. "Careful, Stefan," my older brother Semyon chides. "You'll knock her over." "Oh, I'm alright," I tell him, even as Stefan rights himself and pats my shoulder to make sure I'm okay. "Look how much taller you are! Your whole head is higher than the counter!" He grins bashfully as we go to see the treats Anya's made us. I enjoy everyone's company. There's laughter, storytelling, shouting over music, and clinking glasses as the bakery's closed for the night, and we're reveling in each other's company. But I'm not here, not really, because I can't stop thinking about him. I have to stop thinking about him. "You seem distracted, Zoya." I look up to see Ember watching me, her gaze flashing with mischief, her coppery red hair twisted into a messy bun. "Someone's got your attention at school," she says, sly and teasing. Her eyes glint like she already knows that I'm obsessed with a certain man with a thick Irish brogue, heavy brows, and those shocking blue eyes that seem to look right through me. As if I could have a crush on a boy from school. Please. I smile, barely, and shrug one shoulder, not really sure how to respond. I definitely don't, no. I'm not crushing on a boy. I'm in love with a man. A man I barely know. But I know enough, don't I? I know he's fiercely protective. I know he's the kind of man who listens, who doesn't flinch when things get ugly. He's gentle with me. Kind, even. Even when he's ice-cold with everyone else. 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. Of course that's it. It has to be. But I'm shaking. I don't know what to do next. He reaches for my hand, warm and steady, even as his voice is cold as steel. "Stay in your house tonight. Do you understand me?" His eyes lock with mine, full of something desperate and raw. "Zoya," he says again when I don't answer. I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. It feels like a rock. "I understand," I whisper. And when I stand, he does something unexpected. He grabs the back of my neck, pulls me in, and kisses me like it's the last time. Like he doesn't know if we'll survive this. "Next Thursday," I whisper against his lips. But my voice trembles. "Right?" "Yes," he replies. "Next Thursday." But he won't meet my eyes. When I'm home, I make a call. I dial Aria Romanova with shaking fingers. Polina's brother's wife. She's good. I trust her. There aren't many I do. It's early evening in America. I pray she answers. I've only spoken to her a few times, but after what happened with our families... we all know each other now. "Hello?" "Aria?" I whisper. "It's Zoya Kopolova." I swallow hard. "I need a favor," I say, my voice cracking. "Zoya? Are you okay?" she asks gently. "I... I don't know. I saw something I shouldn't have. And I need details." I take a breath. "It's about someone Irish. A message... It mentioned my family. It said they were going to be destroyed." She's silent. Then her voice turns icy. "And why come to me, Zoya? Why can't you tell your brothers?" Heat flares in my chest. I'm feeling desperate. "Because you know what they'll do. You know if they think they're under attack, they'll burn the whole world down. They don't have the resources right now." My voice breaks. I'm telling the truth. "They'd go to war... and lose." I can tell she's warring with herself before she finally blows out a breath and answers. "Okay," she says with a groan. "I'm on it. But I need everything you know." "All I know is his name is Seamus. He's Irish. And I think... I think he's trying to protect me." She goes still. Her breath catches. "Seamus," you say. "And he's Irish." "Yes." Sometimes you don't ask questions-because the truth is, you're not ready to hear the answers. Because the moment you do, everything becomes real. Tangible... and irreversible. "And you were with him," she says. "Yes." My voice shakes, just slightly. But enough. Enough to make it real. "Okay. All right." Her tone is softer now. "I got you. Now... what did you see?" "A text," I tell her. "A message sent to this... man named Seamus. I saw a message on his phone that my family is going to the Wolf and Moon. The text to him said... destroy them." She goes silent for a beat. Then, "All right. I need a few minutes. I've got a mountain of hay and a thousand needles buried in it, okay? But tell me, what did this Irish guy you know say to you? What does he think you know?" she asks. She isn't speaking sharply anymore. She sounds knowing... wise. "He told me to go home," I say quietly. "Said I'd be safe there." I want to cry. "I see." Does she though? Fuck my life. "I think you should probably do what he said and stay home. It sounds like the wisest choice, doesn't it?" I swallow... hard. My throat is tight, feels like there's barbed wire wrapped around it. "Yes," I manage. Aria sighs. "Stay home, Zoya." She whispers it like a secret she doesn't want the world to hear. I pull out the tracking app, my fingers trembling. It's basic, but it works. We all have them, though Rafail's is leagues beyond. His is wired into something ten steps ahead of the rest of ours. I look for every one of them. Yana, my sister, is in her home in South Africa. Rodion and Ember are at their place. And it looks like Vadka and Ruthie are together. I track the rest of them-Rafail, Polina, Semyon, Anya, Matvei, and Anissa. Then, a few minutes later, my phone rings. It's Aria. My hands tremble, and my stomach bottoms out like I've just stepped off a cliff. "Okay. All right," Aria says. Her voice is flat now, not emotionless but controlled. Brutally steady. "This is where the shit hits the fan, Zoya. The Irish rivals have ordered a hit on your family." The Irish rivals. The Irish fucking rivals. I knew I shouldn't have been with Seamus. I knew it. I knew it. But I still went. I still spoke to him, touched him, trusted him. I still let myself fall in love. And he never gave me a single reason to think he was my enemy. Not one. But he got a message. A message that said he needed to destroy my family. So what does that make him? My enemy? Or just another puppet in this godforsaken war? Am I just lying to myself again? I swallow, my belly plunging straight to the floor. "Okay. All right. What are you telling me?" I ask her. "This is what you need to do." She's all mission now. No hesitation. No apology. "You're right. If your brothers know there's going to be an attack at the bar, they're going to show up, guns blazing. But I'm telling you, this is bigger than they know. Bigger than they think. And you cannot hold them back. Do you understand what I'm saying?" My skin feels clammy, my pulse a desperate thud against my throat. I'm shaking. "Yes," I whisper. "I think I know." "You're going to lie to them, Zoya." Her voice is steel. No room for discussion. I nod to myself, swallowing. "Have you ever lied to your brothers before?" Only every Thursday night, I think bitterly. But I don't say it. "Yeah," I say truthfully. "Not... often." "Then you're going to have to give it your very best shot. Best if you do it by phone. Or text. Don't let them see your face. Don't let them read your body language. You hear me?" I nod again, even though she can't see me. "Yes." "You're going to send them to the warehouse near Anya's bakery. It's empty. Vacant. But they won't know that. You're going to tell them that's where the danger is. You're going to make it real. Undeniable. You cannot suggest it. You cannot hint at it. You have to make them believe it's the only option. Do you understand?" My stomach is acid. My throat feels like it's closing. But I whisper, "Yes. Yes, I do. Please tell me what to do." "You're going to get them the hell out of their houses. All of them. Send them to the warehouse. It's far enough from the Wolf and Moon. Then you're going to stay. Let the Irish do whatever the fuck they're planning at that bar, but your family will be nowhere to be found. Got it?" "Yes," I whisper. My nerves are threadbare. "All right," she says. "I'm going to do what I can from here. And you, Zoya, you be very fucking careful. Do you understand?" she repeats. "Yes. Okay. Thank you," I stammer. "What do I owe you?" "Just stay safe," she says. Her voice softens and cracks just a little. "I know how bad these stakes are. I know what's at risk. Please, Zoya-stay safe." And then she hangs up. I'm staring at my phone. I choke on a dry sob. My chest heaves, then I draw in a deep breath. I call Rafail first. Her words are still ringing in my head. Make it compelling. Don't suggest. Don't hint. Make them know. I'm crying by the time he answers, which honestly helps. "Rafail." My voice is broken. Ragged. And I lie. Through my goddamn teeth, I lie. I make up the best fucking story I can. The one that will get him out. "They're gone," I whisper. "Gone. There was an attack on the warehouse. You have to go. Please. They're all gone. All of them, Rafail. Rodion. Semyon. Matvei. All of them." I'm begging, whimpering... pathetic. But I have to make him believe me. And he does. He questions me, of course. He's not stupid. But eventually, he says he's going. He promises he's going. Thank fuck. Then I call Semyon. Rodion. Matvei. Vadka. And I lie to every one of them. I make it believable. I make it sound real. And one by one, they say they're going. My time is running out. And I can only pray that it's enough. That the distraction will hold. That it'll work. Because right now? Right now, all that matters is that they go. I walk around the house. I feel like I've betrayed everyone. My brothers, my family-every single person who ever trusted me. And worst of all? I've betrayed the only man I've ever loved. I don't know what the hell to do with myself now. I walk around like a ghost, every step heavier than the last. My first call is to Mia. My voice is broken when I whisper her name. "Mia," I say, barely getting the words out. "I've never needed you to lie for me like this. Never. But I need it now. I need you to lie like your life depends on it. Please." I tell her as little as possible-just enough to get her on my side. I don't want her to be in danger. I don't want anyone else dragged into the mess I created. But she gets it. She always does. "Yes," she says. "Of course. You were here the whole night. What happened, Zoya? Are you okay? Are you safe?" "I am now," I lie. Or maybe I don't. Am I? I'm not sure anymore. But I reassure her anyway. "I think I am." The sob tears out of me before I can stop it. I've betrayed them all. Will Seamus find out? God. What happens if he does? Why is that what terrifies me more than even my own brothers finding out? Why is he the one I'm afraid of? He had that message on his phone. Because he was hiding something big. He was in league with someone who wants to burn my family to the ground. No wonder we rarely left the bar. No wonder everything's always on edge. He's been lying to me. Keeping things from me. Playing a game I didn't even know I was in. Has he been seducing me this whole time? Was I just another part of the plan? I sit in the quiet, waiting for the fallout. And it comes faster than I imagined. 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