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He had a flash of Ruby, her plush flesh under his hands, her thighs open to his mouth, her fingertips tracing the scars on his chest when they lay in bed.
He wanted to finish this farce of a family dinner and retreat to his apartment where he could think of her at will, where he could text her and imagine her in the cozy apartment, Olivia asleep as Ruby typed messages to him on her phone.
Igor glared at him. “There is a certain amount of responsibility that comes with the privilege of being the pakhan’s son.”
Roman fought against the instinct to shrink under his father’s gaze. Sometimes he still had to remind himself that he wasn’t six years old, bracing for the impact of another of his father’s rages.
“And I’ve borne those responsibilities,” Roman said. “I’ve worked my way to brigadier by doing every shit job — ”
“Roman, language,” his mother slurred from her chair.
Roman drew in a breath, trying to calm the anger that was rising in his chest, years of resentment threatening to spill over. “I’ve worked my way up like every man in the organizationin spiteof my name. I’ve always done my responsibility to the bratva. I’d simply like some time to decide whether I want to sign my life away to Valeriya Orlov and her father.”
“Vladimir will expect an answer soon,” his father said. “There will be much to arrange, much to discuss.”
His mother brightened. “A wedding would be lovely!”
A wedding wasn’t high on the list of things Igor wanted to discuss with Valeriya’s father. It was the financial arrangement Igor wanted to lock down — how much access would Igor have to the Orlov wealth? What kind of assistance would Vladimir expect from the bratva in return?
Roman and Valeriya were afterthoughts, although Valeriya seemed less disturbed by the idea than Roman.
The fact that his mother was happy to gloss over Roman’s arranged marriage was salt in the wound.
“I’ll let you know within the week,” Roman said to his father.
It was short enough to pacify his father but long enough for Roman to put his plans in motion.
“Very well,” Igor said.
Roman’s phone rang in his pocket. He removed it, assuming it was Max, and was surprised to see Ruby’s name instead.
“I have to take this,” Roman said, rising from the table. “Business.”
He hurried out of the dining room and down the hall toward the library.
“Ruby. Is everything okay?” he asked as he stepped into the wood-paneled room and closed the doors behind him.
“It’s Olivia. She’s… she’s sick.” He could hear the panic in Ruby’s voice. “She had a vaccination today and she seemed fine but now she’s running a fever. The doctor told me to bring her into the ER but… my sister isn’t answering her phone… the subway… ”
“I’ll send a car for you,” Roman said. “It will be there in fifteen minutes.”
He heard her sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’m sorry to call. I…”
“I’m glad you called,” he said. “I meant it when I said to call me if you needed anything. I’d come myself but I’m in Brighton Beach. It will be faster to send a car. Which hospital are you going to?”
“Um… North General, I think.”
“I’m leaving now,” Roman said, starting for the hall. “I’ll meet you there.”
24
RUBY
She adjusted the blankets on Olivia for the hundredth time, then gave up when Olivia kicked them off again.
“I’m hot, Mommy.”
Right, the fever. “Okay, honey. Do you want some more apple juice?”
