Yet another thing we have in common.
Great. We could start a club.Children of monsters.
I have a mother too? And I'm going to meet the man whose life I apparently destroyed in a matter of hours. I didn’t think Icould ever get back to a place where I was insecure or afraid. I run head-on toward fear, toward discomfort, because I’ve found that’s what makes me stronger. But now, my mind is spinning with the most mundane question:What am I going to wear?
And why is he not really afraid of me running anymore?
I also heard him loud and clear when he told his mother—thatcatty excusefor a mother anyway—that I would be the mother of his children. Dear god.Children.
Ha. I’ll have the last word onthatone.
“Hmm. With no real time to go shopping," I say, working my lip. "I can't exactly go to the shop wearing the elephant-sized T-shirt."
I don't normally mind standing out, but this is different.
He nods, scowling, thinking.
"I'll call Rodion."
I know that Rodion is his cousin—Rafail's younger brother. Maybe they're close.
"Rodion's going to have women's clothes?"
"No, but his wife probably will."
His wife.
Maybe choosing ignorance over the Kopolov Bratva wasn’t my smartest strategy.
I nod, thinking.
"That's probably the best option. I don't even think the clothes I brought will be ready in time."
I look down at my nails—short, chipped, clean because of the shower, but barely presentable.
I washed my hair, but it dried into a frizzy mess. I have no makeup, no jewelry. I don’t even have a razor.
What am I thinking? Since when have I cared about this bullshit?
Since now.
Since I’m back in Russia with women who dress well and take pride in their appearance, that’s when.
I get up to use the bathroom. “Where’s your bathroom?”
“There are four. Closest is here, off the kitchen.”
This is a nice home. The Bratva do take care of their own.
I walk to the bathroom and splash water on my face. It’s a start. My reflection stares back at me—bare-faced, no makeup, no jewelry.
No armor.
For the first time in years, I’m justAnissa.
And I hate it. I hate it so much.
Matvei’s voice echoes behind me. I hear him talking to Rodion, filling him in, asking him for a solid.
