Page 54 of Unrequited

And Seamusworksfor him.

“Iknowwho The Undertaker is,” I tell him, my voice trembling despite everything in me willing it to stay steady. “I’ve heard the stories, Seamus. I know what he does. And you—youworkfor that man. You work for the most ruthless, cold-hearted bastard in all of Ireland. I know you do. I heard you on the phone with him. Right after you killed all those men. You slaughtered them, just hosed them down like they were nothing.” My voice breaks. “And it was supposed to be my family.”

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but I shake my head.

“No.” The word slips from me in a whispered rasp, harsh and cutting, because I can’t risk raising my voice. Not when Polina’s right down the hall. Not when my family’s teetering on the edge, prepared for my collapse.

They fear me, fear the moment I break, because no one wants to see Zoya Kopolova shatter. If I fall apart, it was all for nothing. Every sacrifice, every calculated move… meaningless.

If I fall apart, then none of them will be able to stand tall either because I’m the youngest. I’m the one they all think is made of iron and spite. And if I can’t hold strong in the face of this, then who will?

“I know who you work for, Seamus,” I repeat. “And you know just as well as I do, there can never be anything between us. Not now. Not ever.”

I try to step away, but his grip is too tight.

“Why did you think I didn’t mean it?” he asks, his eyes narrowing like he’s trying to understand something that won’t quite fit in his head. “Why did you think I came week after week and risked everything for you?”

“Risked everything?” I hiss, shaking my head, my voice bitter and sharp-edged.

I blink, and hot, fat tears slip down my cheeks. “You won’t even risk being seen with me. You won’t even let anyone know we were together.”

“Willyou?” he asks.

And I look away—because we both already know the answer.

No. Of course I won’t.

“You thought I left you?” he asks again, and the way he looks at me, like his heart is breaking right there in his chest, hurts. “You thought I’d do all that, come week after week, and just abandon you?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” I say, and I blink again. More tears, hot and fast, streaming down my face in thick, silent rivulets.

“What was I supposed to think, Seamus, after everything you said, everything you promised, and then you didn’t show? You couldn’t send a message? You couldn’t get word to me? Nothing? All this time?” I shake my head.

“I showed up for you,” I whisper, and I can’t bear to look at him. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes. I don’t want him to see how weak I really am.

“I showed up. Week after week after week. I sat in the same corner, drank the same drink. I came looking for my Mr. Thursday. I risked everything just tositthere and wait for you. But you…” My voice breaks. “You never came back.”

“I couldn’t, love,” he says softly.

“Don’t call me that.” I shake my head, turning away again. “Don’t. And now you say I betrayed you? How dare you?”

His gaze sharpens. “Zoya, you looked at information that wasn’t yours.”

“You were going to kill my family because The Undertaker told you to!”

My voice comes out too loud. I clamp it down and whisper instead.

“You work for a man who wants to wipe out my family, Seamus.”

There’s no room left for negotiation. “There can’t be an ‘us’ anymore,” I say bitterly. “Leave. Let me marry this stuck-up.” I stifle a sob. “Go away. Go back to Ireland. Go serve yourUndertaker.”

And I can’t even pretend to hide the bitterness bleeding through every word.

“Zoya,” he growls, but before he can finish, there’s another knock on the door.

“Zoya, it’s me, Yana. I just have something to show you.”

He lets me go, and my hand flies over my mouth. How can I hide him?