Page 74 of The Agreement

“On some real shit?” Roman said to his friend.

That made Marky sit up straighter. “What about it?”

He considered what he wanted to say, and how to say it. Never was there a time in his life that Roman felt a need to be careful about the words he chose. It was a dangerous thing to be poking into the business of bratva men.

And still, there was something shady going on in the Yazov mansion. It was a good thing that the assholes had made a point of watching him and offering little to no trust, because he didn’t trust them, either.

Chicago was a mess.

The men were all snakes.

From plots on the boss, to a daughter he kept out of sight only long enough to be brought out in the open and paraded like a prize on the night of her engagement. And that was before he touched the topic of drugs—why was her slave feeding her pills?

“I need information on something related to the Yazovs,” Roman finally settled on saying.

Marky instantly tilted his head to the side like a puppy might for a rolling ball in his owner’s hand. “Like the men, or like a Yazov, because—”

“Marky.”

Roman’s sharp warning wasn’t enough.

“You don’t mean, Dima, right? That fuck is worthless, Roman. Don’t get into another pissing contest with him—you’ll still win it, but you already know you won’t like the prize.”

Goddammit.

He was seriously started to regret his previous take on having Marky in Chicago.

Roman scowled, saying, “I was actually talking about Karine Yazov. Maxim’s daughter.”

“He has a daughter?”

He almost laughed.

Except it wasn’t funny.

Roman just nodded instead, not wanting to make Marky’s shock into a big deal. He’d already figured out not a lot people knew about Karine. But why? That was the real question. There was no real reason to hide a beautiful woman who was clearly of age away from the rest of the world. Even the most controlled mafia daughters had lives outside of the confines of their father’s homes.

But for Karine, it almost seemed like outside the circle of her father’s closest people, no one knew she even existed.

And that didn’t sit right with him.

Why?

Why do that?

“Yeah,” Roman said, smirking his friend’s way. “That’s exactly the point. Nobody seems to know she’s there. Even when she’s standing in the damn room.”

Marky squinted his eyes, considering the information. “If they are trying to hide her away, it’s not going to be easy information to dig out.”

“Which is why I can’t do it myself—too many eyes on me currently.”

Marky sucked in a deep breath, disapproval drawing his lips together in a grim line. He didn’t need the man to say what was clear—Roman should stay out of trouble and not go digging around in a pile of shit. If only things were that easy.

At the same time, he knew better than to tell Roman anything—but especially what to do or not do. Roman wished he could explain everything to Marky, it would make a lot more sense. However, he had to watch what he said and what Marky might tell other people, too.

“There’s a lot to unpack here,” Marky said, twirling a finger in front of himself as if to magically conjure up a picture of Roman’s mess. His friend wasn’t dumb; he could put things together without actually asking. Like the fact he was asking about a boss’s daughter. Something no man had any business doing. “And I’m thinking it’s better if I don’t ask, right?”

Yeah.