Page 81 of Unbroken

“Sorry,” Zoya says, grimacing like a kid who knows they’ve screwed up. “She said she had to get to work. I tried to get her to stay, but she said her job was important.”

“Did you even check her?” My voice cuts sharp, too sharp, and Zoya flinches.

Iwant to be the one who takes care of her. The one who keeps her safe. “What the fuck did she do with her ankle?”

The room behind me shifts. Rafail’s pissed at how I’m talking to his sister. His presence is like a storm building, suffocating us with an undercurrent of danger. I sigh. “Sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“It isn’t,” Rafail repeats. Then he turns his attention to Matvei and while they talk shop, I make plans to get the hell out of here so I can track Ruthie down, check on her, and give her hell for taking off.

Matvei is back working in the office. I can hear the quiet hum of his laptop. I know he’s not just working but plotting, likely staring at video footage that would make anyone else tremble. He’s the one who keeps things in line, the tactical mind behind this war.

The war—it's not just about the Irish anymore. It's about power, survival, and keeping the Kopolov family at the top. The Irish have been bold—too bold—and they think they can break us. They've stirred up more than a few dark corners of this city and aligned themselves with forces that threaten our stability. I’ve seen the intel, the whispers in the shadows—it's bigger than we thought.

The Irish are targeting our supply routes, cutting us off from resources, trying to weaken our grip. But it’s the personal vendettas that make it dangerous—betrayal runs deeper when it’s in your own blood.

Then there’s the pressure on Matvei. He’s the one who has to keep everything together and make sure the enemies don’t slip through our fingers. I feel the weight of the decision that’s been thrust onto him, a war he didn’t ask for butis now bound to lead. The stakes are high—more than just the family’s wealth is on the line. This is about territory, about loyalty, and about control. Violence is inevitable, and when it comes, it will be brutal.

Outside, the tension in the streets has been escalating. People talk, and every whisper feels like a threat. Those who are loyal to the Kopolovs are on edge, unsure of what’s coming next. We’ve been forced to make alliances with people we wouldn’t normally trust, and every meeting, every handshaking deal, feels like a moment where one wrong move could spark an all-out war.

The calm before the storm. I can almost taste it in the air—the anticipation, the fear, the certainty that we are standing on the edge of something we won’t be able to stop. Rafail’s anger, Matvei’s cool control, and my own uncertainty about how much longer we can keep this balance… it all feeds into the dread. The war is coming, and it’s going to tear apart everything and everyone I love.

Chapter 14

RUTHIE

Maybe I ran.I knew Vadka would be pissed that I left without talking to him, but I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. Why does that make me so damn uncomfortable?

I call my mother to check in on her, or maybe it’s to remind myself that I have other responsibilities, that I don’t need someone to help me shoulder my burdens.

But my mom is taking a nap, and they tell me she’s stable.

So I go straight to the bar, a little early for my shift. Predictable, maybe. Stupid. But I need to clear my head because I’m starting to feel like I need Vadka like I need air, and thatfreaks me out.

He’s not gonna be happy. But after I talked to Zoya, I needed to leave.

Zoya—kind, ever-pragmatic Zoya—told me the truth. About losing her parents. About feeling broken and soft and unsure. And she looked me in the eye like she saw right through me. “You think love is supposed to look tidy after loss? After death?”

I didn’t respond, because I didn’t have an answer.

Do I?

“He’s not the same man he was before,” she said gently. “He loves Luka. I believe that with my whole heart. And I do think he loves you, but I don’t think that’s new, Ruthie. He’s loved you for years.”

It feels dismissive and hurtful, even though I know sweet Zoya wouldn’t hurt a flea. What she’s doing is trying to make sureIdon’t get hurt.

“Listen, Ruthie,” she said softly. “I’m just not sure he can love you in the way you need. Or deserve. You two are… very different people.”

God, she’s so right.

“I’m not saying it’s wrong,” she added quickly. “Don’t mistake me. I think, in a lot of ways, it’s very right, and my romance-loving heart wants nothing more than to see the two of you together. But I don’t want you to make a decision in the heat of grief or lust or guilt. Not when it could hurt you. Because if it goes wrong between you and Vadka, it’s not just you who gets hurt. Luka does too.”

I thought about that, really thought about it. I can’t just show up at their house, day after day, and then… not come anymore if something happens between Vadka and me. Children need consistency, routine, structure. I’m not one to offer that.

She sighed. “He’s your connection to your sister, and that might color your judgment. I don’t mean that cruelly…”

But I get it. I get it so clearly that it aches. Can I let this… infatuation? Lust? Love? Whatever it is—can I let it cloud my relationship with my nephew? With Mariah’s son?

It would be a grave, unforgivable mistake.

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