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Would he?
“No, fuckyou, Ruby. You brought this asshole into yourhome. The home you share withOlivia, for fuck’s sake. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to get custody now?”
The words were a vacuum that sucked all the air out of her lungs. She started to shake but she didn’t know if it was due to the cold or Adam’s threat. “Don’t you dare threaten me with Olivia. She’s not a pawn for you to use to punish me.”
“Who said anything about a pawn? I’m Olivia’s father. It’s my job to protect her — from her whore of a mother if necessary.”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” Ruby said, reaching for the coffee shop door.
“No, but you better fucking do something about it, Ruby. Look at those pictures, do your own research online, I don’t fucking care, but if I hear this asshole has been around you or our daughter, you’ll never see Olivia again.”
She hurried through the coffee shop, past the stares of the two women she’d waited on fifteen minutes before, staring at her like they knew Ruby’s problems were way bigger than their bad dates.
Ruby pushed through the half door that separated the customers from the coffee area and continued into the supply room.
She paced back and forth in front of the boxes of paper cups and lids, napkins and coffee stirrers, feeling like she was going to hyperventilate.
Finally, she forced herself to sit on one of the boxes and flip through the content of the manila envelope.
She felt the pull to Roman even through the pictures, his face dark and brooding, often beaten and bruised, his massive frame exuding power even in the photographs.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it were the investigative reports Adam had included. They were redacted, but it was still highly unusual for a civilian like Ruby to have access to this information, and her stomach heaved as she read the snippets typed by investigators who weren’t Adam.
Although there are no signs of Igor’s impending retirement, Roman Kalashnik is for all intents and purposes second in command…
… most heavily involved in the gun trade seems to be Igor’s son, Roman.
Rogov is purported to be a soldier in Roman Kalashnik’s crew but refused a plea deal and was sentenced to five years.
She felt sick.
It was all there. Roman was a member of the bratva. His business — his family — had murdered her mother.
And he’d never said a word.
32
ROMAN
“You sure you don’t want me to come in?” Max asked.
They were sitting in the Jag in front of the Brighton Beach house, all but one window of the great house dark.
“I’m sure,” Roman said. “Better to make it seem like a friendly visit when I arrive.”
“It’s not a friendly visit,” Max said. “I think it’s a mistake to do this without backup.”
Normally, Roman wouldn’t love the questioning of one of his decisions, but they were in uncharted territory and Max was like a brother.
“I know you do,” Roman said.
He wouldn’t change his mind. His decision to take over the bratva was backed by business data — the weak organizational structure, his father’s age and his absurd lack of a succession strategy, the bratva’s dwindling profits — but it was personal too.
His father had relished exerting control over Roman for thirty-eight years. He’d belittled and berated Roman. Hurt and abused him. He’d used Roman as a pawn in suggesting a marriage to Valeriya Orlov, as if Roman were no one to him.
As if he were nothing.
And after all of Roman’s hard work — twenty years working his way through the ranks of the bratva without a single favor from his father — Igor would deny him the opportunity to lead even when it would benefit the bratva.
