Page 57 of Unrequited

She smiles again. “All right. Twenty minutes, okay?” I nod.

“Okay. Thank you,” I say, looking away. There’s a lump in my throat that won’t go down. I stare at my vacant window.

She’s right. Maybe, just maybe, there’ll be something there to like. Something waiting for me.

I’m told he has a beautiful home. I haven’t seen it yet. And honestly? I don’t want to.

My gaze spins toward the window, irrationally hoping Seamus might materialize there like a phantom. He left last night. So why do I think he might come back?

He said I betrayed him. And I did—I read those texts, and I accused him of conspiring with a murderer.

What would I even do if he showed up? He didn’t come for me.

I’m here, alone.

Polina comes back, a tray in her hands with ice water and some small snacks. “Try to eat something,” she says, setting the tray down gently, her eyes full of concern.

She sits across from me.

“Can I ask you a question, Polina? Or… if I do, do you have to reporteverythingback to Rafail?”

Her expression softens, lips curving in a knowing way. “Girls can have some secrets,” she says, lifting her chin and meeting my gaze. “What’s your question?”

Can I trust her?

I swallow hard, nerves prickling my skin. “What do you know about The Undertaker? The Irish?—”

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about.” Her whole face changes. She bites her lip, turns away from me, troubled. “Why do you ask that?” she says quietly.

“Because I overheard you all that night. In the kitchen. After the bar.”

“Of course I remember,” she says. “Now why are you asking about The Undertaker?” She gently adjusts a pin in my hair.

I watch her in the mirror as she smooths one curl and straightens out the other, methodical, careful. Her fingers work fast, and she pins them in place like she’s done it a thousand times before.

“I’ve heard a lot of people talk about him,” I go on, a littletoo calmly. “But I want to know what he’s really like. Will you tell me? Please?”

She exhales slowly, like she’s been holding something in for a while. “I can only tell you what I know, darling,” she says gently. “And I know that one of the reasons Rafail is marrying you is because The Undertaker told Semyon he was coming for his sister.”

Her voice drops to a hush. “And we assumed,” she says, “that the sister he meant was you.”

I blink. Of course.

Yana is already married. There are no other sisters. Who else could he have meant?

“He said he was coming for me? Why didn’t anyone ever mention that? That’s… strange.”

What does Seamus think aboutthat?

“Right,” she says with a sigh. “And Rafail didn’t want to risk that happening. The Undertaker… the things they’ve said about him. He… he can disappear in a crowd, but youfeelhim. They say he once made a man confess his sins just by folding his coat in front of him.”

Oh wow.

“He doesn’t always carry a weapon, they say, because heisone. Never raises his voice, yet even the most hardened criminals fear and obey him.”

I swallow. And Seamus works for him?

“No one’s ever seen him bleed. He doesn’t threaten either—everything he says is a promise, they say.”