AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And it was all Roman Kalashnik’s fault.
Well, notall.
It wasn’t Roman’s fault her ex-husband was a psychopath. It also wasn’t his fault that his father would stoop to kidnapping a woman, a mother, who had nothing to do with his business. That Igor would hold her hostage as leverage against his son.
She remembered Roman’s scarred body, the image of the gladiator inked on his chest. She was mortified to feel desire stir at her center, and she rolled onto her side, shutting it down.
She would not feel sorry for Roman. She would not make excuses for him.
She would not want him.
She’d left the bedside light on in the bedroom and she let her gaze travel over the shadowed room. There was something different about this room, something that set it apart from the rest of the loft — the part she’d seen anyway.
It took her a minute to place it: it was… cozy.
There were books on the bookshelves that flanked a large TV. Not brand-new books but books with wrinkled dust jackets and faded covers.
A plant hung in the corner, its vines trailing downward, and thick velvet curtains hung on either side of the large window, the city twinkling in the distance.
The blankets on the bed were warm and luxurious, a candle on each nightstand waiting to be lit, and the bed itself had a massive carved headboard like something out of a Victorian novel.
It was so strange, a homey oasis in a sea of concrete and steel, designer furniture, and tabletops free of clutter.
She stretched to reach the nightstand and found a lighter in the drawer. After lighting the candle, she laid back in bed with a sigh, her gaze on the steady flame.
She needed to call her father and Brooke, needed to figure out where she was going to stay while she sorted out the mess that was her life. Because Roman was right: she couldn’t stay with them while Igor Kalashnik was out there with an ax to grind against his son.
She would call them in the morning, when her mind was clearer.
Her eyelids felt heavy, the food in her stomach and the silence of the room working with the flame of the candle to calm her nervous system.
I am safe in my body.
It shouldn’t have felt true, not when Roman — at least as dangerous as his father — lurked somewhere in the loft.
But itfelttrue.
Her eyes drifted closed and a moment later she fell into the abyss of sleep.
12
Roman
“What’s the word on the street?” Roman asked the men sitting around the table in the loft.
He would need to establish another headquarters at some point, but it was still too dangerous. They had too few men to protect multiple locations. Right now, the loft was the safest place for them to gather.
“I’ve heard there’s chatter among the associates,” Mat said. His ice-blue eyes were alert, no sign of the previous night’s raid on his face. “They’re worried, wondering if they’ve thrown in their lot with the wrong leader after the incident at the grain terminal.”
Theincidentmeaning four of Igor’s men found dead this morning.
“Good,” Roman said. Leadership started at the top but dissent started at the bottom. If the associates were becoming disenchanted with Igor’s leadership, the brigadiers would follow. “What’s he doing to placate them?”
His father was not a born leader. In the best of times, he ran roughshod over the brigadiers and their associates.
But he wasn’t stupid. He needed them now more than ever. He would try to keep them loyal.
“Bonuses mostly,” Mat said.
