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“I do.” His voice was solemn. He wanted her to know that he understood the gravity of their discussion, because she was right: if it got back to her father, she would be in grave danger. “Which is why we’re talking here.”
“You say that like I’m supposed to be comforted by it,” she said. “You’re the enemy. Why would I discuss such a… sensitive matter with you?”
“Because I’m notyourenemy.” He brushed a piece of lint off his trousers. “In fact, I would go so far as to say we might even be allies, under the right circumstances of course.”
Her gaze turned shrewd. “I’m listening.”
“Your mother is dead. You have no siblings. I assume you’re the beneficiary of your father’s wealth,” he said.
“And if I was?”
“If you were, I would think there would be a strong incentive for claiming that inheritance sooner rather than later,” Roman said. “Say, before you marry my brother?”
Her eyes grew wide. “You aren’t suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”
He shrugged. “I can’t possibly know what you think I’m suggesting. I’m simply stating facts. The kind of wealth you stand to inherit… it would represent ultimate freedom, wouldn’t it? No more arranged-marriage proposals. No more doing Daddy’s dark bidding.”
“The trust only comes to me in the event of his death,” she said.
“I assumed.”
She swallowed and glanced nervously around, the only time he’d ever seen her lose her cool. “He’s my father.”
Roman nodded. “I’m not unsympathetic to the fact.”
He wasn’t being snide. He knew what it was like to loathe and love a parent with equal measure. To bow and scrape for their approval in the harsh light of day and pray for their painful death in the dark of night.
“Still,” he continued, “a woman like you with the money to make her own way… there’s no telling what you could do. You’d be free.”
“Free.”
He nodded and gave her a minute, could see the wheels turning in her head.
“You might be surprised to hear that I… love my father, although I’m not even sure that’s the right word,” Roman said. “Despite the challenges of my upbringing, I’ve tried other methods of wresting the bratva from his control, hoping we could find new footing in our… relationship.”
“Men like our fathers don’t give up power easily,” Valeriya said softly. “Or at all.”
“Exactly. And I see now it was a fool’s errand anyway,” he said.
Roman wasn’t a good man. He knew this, would never assert to the contrary. But he had an honor code of sorts, lines he wouldn’t cross. Hurting women and children was one of them.
Ruby’s kidnapping had ended any remnants of Roman’s hope for his father. He had zero doubt his father had intended to kill Ruby sooner or later — after he let his men have their fun with her.
The boss is the one who said not to touch her yet.
He had to shake his head to rid himself of the thought.
A man like that couldn’t be trusted with power. Valeriya’s father — a man essentially selling his daughter to the bratva — was no better.
“Which is why I propose that we free ourselves from the shackles of our parentage,” Roman said. “Our fathers had their chance. They played the game their way. Maybe it’s our turn.”
“What — exactly — do you propose?” Valeriya asked.
“Nothing overly dramatic,” Roman said. “Nothing painful. Say… a nightcap before a long sleep? I’ll provide the nightcap’s essential ingredient of course.”
He remembered meeting the Orlovs to discuss a marriage between Roman and Valeriya, the way she had ordered the household staff to bring drinks.
Poison would be easy with Valeriya on his side.
