Page 120 of Unbroken

“She’s at the house,” Semyon says.

Matvei shakes his head slowly, brows furrowing as he scans the room. “Something’s not adding up.”

“Nothing’s fucking adding up,” Rafail growls, his voice low and lethal. “Right. I’m gonna try Zoya’s phone again?—”

But it rings. And rings. And rings.

“Why would she bring us all here? What’s the game?”

“I went to check on the house,” Semyon says. “Video shows Ruthie walking into Luka’s room. We don’t have cameras in private bedrooms—privacy policy—but at every entrance, every exit, we do. And there’s nothing. No mess. No signs ofstruggle. The guards are all where they’re supposed to be. Everything is… still. Too still.”

Rafail’s brows draw together. “Vadka, where were you when she called?”

“I was at the house,” I answer. “With Luka. With Ruthie. You?”

“I was heading to Wolf and Moon,” Rafail says, voice clipped. “Supposed to meet Semyon there for a drink.”

“Yeah,” Semyon echoes. “I was on my way too. Then she called. Told me to come. I didn’t know why everyone was here. Rafail was supposed to be meeting me.”

Rafail nods slowly. “That’s right.”

“What the fuck? Are we being set up?”

“I was at home with Ember,” Rodion says. “We just finished a FaceTime with Yana.”

Yana. Their younger sister, currently in South Africa.

“Matvei?”

“I was out driving,” he replies. “Testing the range on a new tracking mod we installed today. Anissa’s asleep back at the house.”

“If Zoya is really at the house, let’s go find her. Let’s see what the hell she’s playing at.”

That fleeting rush of relief I felt—seeing all of my brothers safe and accounted for—vanishes in an instant. Dissolves into nothing. Because something is off. Deeply off. And Zoya, sweet, loyal Zoya… she isn’t clean.

We’ve been betrayed before. Mateo’s parents. His brother. Later, we learned his parents were behind all of it.

I would’ve sworn on my last breath—Zoya would die before she betrayed us. Before she betrayed her brothers.

It can’t be betrayal.

No.

It’s strategy.

“She dragged us all here,” I mutter. “Why would she do that?”

“Fuck,” Rodion breathes out, eyes wide and wet. “To keep us safe. That’s why. Something’s about to happen. Something big. She knew. She was scared?—”

Then Rafail’s phone starts ringing. Over and over again.

“It says you’re calling me,” he mutters, confused.

“Fuck. That’s gotta be Ruthie. I left my real phone at the house—I didn’t want to be tracked. Got a burner on me.”

He holds it up, grim. “Rafail.”

It’s Ruthie.

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