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Vera crossed the floor — warm wood layered with patterned carpets — and gestured to the attached bathroom. The light was on, a warm glow hinting at the luxurious marble and gold fixtures within.
“I’ve laid out some towels and toiletries,” Vera said. “Would you like me to stay?”
Ruby shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”
Vera nodded. “You’ll find clean clothes in the bureau. If you need anything else, you can use the intercom.”
She tapped a digital panel next to the bathroom door.
“Thank you,” Ruby said.
She had a million questions, but somehow she knew Vera wouldn’t be the one to answer them.
For that, Ruby would need to talk to Roman.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Vera asked, her voice kind.
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to it then.”
She was almost out the door when the question that had been plaguing Ruby’s mind again flew from her mouth. “Where's Roman?”
Vera met her gaze and Ruby wondered at the strength she saw there. Vera had stories to tell. Ruby was sure of it. “He’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready.”
She closed the door behind her, leaving Ruby wrapped in the muffled silence of the elegant bedroom.
She didn’t know how long it took her to move. She’d been a prisoner for so long it felt strange to think she could move whenever she wanted, but finally, she stood and headed for the bathroom.
She wanted to wash away the dirt and grime of her captivity.
Then she would see her daughter.
8
Roman
He paced the large open-plan living and kitchen area of the loft, feeling like he wanted to jump out of his skin. After three weeks — of worry, of fear — Ruby was finally safe.
Here, just a few rooms away.
“And she didn’t seem hurt?” he asked Max, who was leaning against the giant island that acted as a divider between the living and kitchen areas.
“Not outwardly,” Max said. “But… you know.”
Roman did know, although he’d been trying not to think about it. His father’s men could have done anything to Ruby during the three weeks they’d kept her prisoner.
Anything.
He took a drink of the tequila in his glass and tried to calm the drumbeat of rage that still beat out a rhythm in his body.
Killing his father’s men — the two that had been guarding Ruby’s door and the two he’d found at the front entrance — hadn’t quelled it.
Not even close.
The city would run red with the blood of his father and his men before Roman’s fury was satiated.
But behind the fury was something else, an emotion far less familiar to him than anger.
