Page 32 of Barinov

“Right,” Nate huffs.

“Here, Roman,” Sabine says, reappearing like a ghost at his side. She’s holding a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Drink this.”

“I’m fine,” he grunts. His hand comes up to swat her away, but his fingers are shaking.

“I ain’t about to have you bleed out before you get your daughter back,” Sabine says, her voice a soft, lethal caress. She doesn’t wait for his permission as she unbuttons his shirt. “Not on my watch, chéri.”

“Let her do it,” Daniel grits. “Now’s not the time to be a stubborn asshole, Rome.”

“Fine.” Roman’s jaw locks. His gaze snaps to the ceiling as he yields to Sabine’s hands, now exposing the heavily stained gauze beneath. She takes a clean, white towel and presses it against the seepage.

“Hold this tight, now,” she instructs as she guides his trembling hand to the cloth. “And press hard.”

He nods and wraps his fingers around the towel, holding it firmly against his chest.

“Long story short,” Roman continues. The bleeding contained for now and muffled by the terrycloth. “Luca became my top security officer at The Obsidian. I quickly turned him into my inside man in the NYPD, sending me tips on raids and keeping eyes looking elsewhere. He was exceptionally good at the job. Fit right in around there. Hell, nearly all my dancers loved—”

Roman stops. He turns slowly and locks eyes with Lex’s mom like a missile. “Irina,” he says tightly. “Did Izzy and Luca ever?”

Irina lifts her chin, ice in her posture as she rises from one of the barstools. “Did Izzy and Luca ever what?” she asks with a sharp snap of the t.

“Were they ever,” he pauses, mouth twitching.

“Spit it out,” she mocks as she places her hands on her hips.

“Were they ever together?” Roman asks.

Irina scoffs. “How should I know? I never stepped foot inside your sick little club.”

“Because she was your best friend,” Roman snaps, pushing back from the table one-handed while keeping the other pressed to his chest. “Did she ever mention him?”

“Mention him? Roman, Izzy only ever talked about you. How much she loved you.” Irina lets out a bitter and broken laugh. “How much she needed you.”

Roman stiffens.

“She needed you there with her during the birth of your—” Irina cuts herself off, her voice shattering. She lets out a deep sigh before continuing. “But instead, my best friend was forced to die in a cold, lonely hospital bed. All alone.”

“She ran!” Roman roars, taking a few hurried strides until he’s right in front of Irina.

“Rome,” Daniel warns, stepping up behind his wife.

Roman ignores him. “How was I supposed to—”

“You should have been there!” she shrieks, not backing down from Roman’s irate gaze.

“Honey.” Daniel steps in and reaches for Irina’s arm to pull her back, but she smacks it away. She takes a step closer until she’s toe to toe with Roman.

“This?” Irina bites, sweeping her hand around vaguely. “Everything that has happened to your daughter?” She looks up at him dead in the eye. Her ice-blue eyes blazing into steel. “Is all on you.”

Roman’s jaw ticks as he looms over Irina. “What about Raina?”

She huffs an unimpressed laugh. “Raina would never talk to me,” she hisses, jabbing a finger at him. “You of all people know that.”

“Raina got good at playing Izzy. She could have fooled—”

“For Christ’s sake, stop it!” Daniel interrupts, stepping around his wife and getting in between them. “We can dissect both of your regrets about Izzy and Raina later.”

Roman glares at them for a few quick moments, his nostrils flaring. The towel at his chest growing redder by the second.