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Ruby took their order, then forced herself to breathe as Adam approached the counter. She’d been nervous all morning, wondering what Adam wanted to talk about, if he would want to rehash the fact that Roman had been in her apartment last Thursday morning.
“Let’s go out back,” he said.
“No.” Ruby wasn’t about to be alone with Adam in the alley again, not after what had happened a couple of weeks ago.
She felt Henry shift behind her, felt his eyes on her. They weren’t tight — Ruby had lost all her close friends during her marriage to Adam — but they were friends.
He would back her.
Adam scowled. “Seriously?”
“Yep, seriously.” She eyed the manila envelope in his hands, wondered if they were legal documents. The possibility made her sweat. Would he try to take Olivia from her because she’d slept with Roman? “We can talk here or I can ask Henry to work the counter for ten minutes and we can go out front.”
Adam was in uniform. He wouldn’t want witnesses to his abuse.
She thought he would fight her on the issue. Instead he tossed the envelope on the counter. “Fine. You want to do this here? Let’s do it here.”
She sighed, already tired of his theatrics. “What is this Adam?”
“I’m assuming you didn’t know your new boyfriend is a member of the same gang that killed your mother, but maybe I’m wrong.”
The words were so baffling they didn’t register at first.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your new boyfriend? Roman Kalashnik? He’s the son of a Russian Mafia boss,” Adam said. “The bratva.”
“I know what the Russian Mafia is called,” she snapped. No one knew better than Ruby, Brooke, and their dad. “I just have no idea why you’re talking about Roman.”
“See for yourself,” Adam said, tipping his head at the manila envelope. “It’s all there.”
She reached for the envelope, fully expecting it to contain a bunch of bullshit, but when she opened it, the first thing she saw was him.
Roman.
The picture was in black and white, taken with a zoom lens, but it was clearly a slightly younger version of Roman, wearing a suit and walking toward a brownstone. His face — traced by her fingers during their hours in bed, seen looking down at her when he held her head in his hands — was unmistakable.
“Can you cover me for a few minutes, Henry?” she asked without turning to look at him.
“Sure. You’ll be out front?” he asked nervously.
“Yep.” She picked up the envelope and its contents and headed for the entrance of the coffee shop with Adam on her heels. Once they were outside, she wheeled on him. “You had himfollowed?”
“Not me,” Adam said, touching her elbow to pull her out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. These are from the OCTF.”
She shook off his hand and moved to the edge of the sidewalk. “I have no idea what that is.”
He stared at her like she was stupid. “The Organized Crime Task Force? They’ve got a running investigation into all the crime families in the state, and the Kalashniks are right at the top. Roman’s father Igor is the boss.”
“So?” Ruby said, trying desperately to calm her racing heartbeat. “Roman’s not responsible for his father.”
“Roman’s a brigadier in the organization, Ruby. Look.” He pointed at the bundle of papers in her hand. “Stop thinking with your fucking cunt.”
“Fuck you, Adam.” The words would have gotten her hurt a couple of years before, but she was beyond caring, her mind panicking as it raced to grasp on to something that made sense.
Because Roman being a high-ranking member of the bratva — the organization who was responsible for the death of her mother — was impossible.
She’dtoldhim. Heknewwhat had happened to her mother. He wouldn’t keep this from her.
