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She shook her head. “For what?”
“For… all of this,” he said. “I’m sorry it’s taken you from your old life. Sorry you went from serving coffee and watching movies with Olivia to being followed around by an armed guard, living in…” He looked around. “… a place with a room like this.”
She walked toward him, didn’t stop until she was right in front of him.
She ran her hands over his chest, rested them on his muscled pecs under his T-shirt. “Two months ago I would have accepted that apology. I don’t need it now.”
He shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. “You’re owed it.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t want it.” She looked around the tiny room, taking in the weapons that still lined the walls, imagining the loft beyond them. “I kind of like this place actually. I mean, you need a blanket for your sofa so we can take naps, and a few houseplants in the living room wouldn’t kill you.” He laughed and rested his forehead against hers. “But I kind of like it here. And I really, really love you.”
She still didn’t know what it meant for them — still didn’t know if there was a way to a future together — but she knew that much was true.
He reached up to touch her cheek. “I really, really love you too.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he reluctantly pulled away from her. “That’s Max. It’s time to go.”
32
ROMAN
Roman checked the side mirror on their way out of the city, satisfied that Mat was still behind them and glad it was still light enough for him to make out the other black Escalade.
“He knows where we’re going,” Max said from the driver’s seat.
It was true — if they got separated, Mat would meet them, and it wasn’t like they didn’t have cell phones — but Roman had been on edge ever since they’d left Brooklyn. He fucking hated leaving Ruby and Olivia, and the fact that Vera was still there and Georgiy was standing guard outside the loft did nothing to allay Roman’s fear.
He was starting to believe he’d never be at ease with Ruby and Olivia out of his sight, something that was going to be supremely inconvenient when Ruby walked out of his life for good.
The fact that she loved him was cold comfort. He was on the verge of eliminating his father. After that, all that was left was to negotiate with Russia. He should have been excited, his future suddenly looking brighter, but all he could think about was the fact that Igor’s death spelled the end of their war — and that spelled the end of his relationship with Ruby.
Once Roman convinced Russia he was the best man to lead New York, the city would be safe for Ruby and Olivia again. They would go back to their lives without him and he would have nothing but bittersweet memories.
He shifted in the Escalade’s passenger seat and willed himself to focus on the task at hand.
They didn’t have proof that their destination was Igor’s hiding place, but Roman was almost certain it was. Pavel had tailed Erik all the way there the night before, leaving his car on a wooded side road and hiking through the woods to a spot that offered him a view of the old house.
Dima, one of Igor’s main bodyguards, had stood on the front porch, weapon at his side, while other men patrolled the property, and an older man in a medical coat was seen leaving just before Erik exited the house and drove away.
The doctor piqued Roman’s curiosity. He knew his father had been wounded at the Orlovs’ funeral but his men had closed ranks around him and Roman hadn’t been able to get any more information.
Whatever injuries he’d sustained required the care of a doctor.
Unless…
Roman considered the other possibility: his mother was ill.
The copious amounts of liquor she consumed did nothing for her health, and Vera had told Roman that his mother had decamped the Brighton Beach house along with his father.
Was the doctor there for Igor? Or Roman’s mother?
His phone buzzed and he looked at the screen where a text from Lyon Antonov was waiting.
Arrived in Albany. See you soon.
“Lyon’s plane has touched down,” Roman told Max.
“Good,” Max said.
