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I resented his world, and the violence it asked of him. I treated Roman like he was exactly the same as the people I had escaped, when the truth is that he never once gave me anyreason to think he’s anything like Rodrigo Cardeñas or Jacey—or the Chinese triad members who guard this place.

I know a little about the Mercura crypto platform at the center of Roman’s empire. Not much, but enough to know that he’s too busy running a multibillion-dollar digital money laundering operation to be smuggling people or drugs on the side.

But does that really change anything?

Criminal organizations are the same beast, whether they’re dealing crypto or cocaine. They still consist of violent men who operate outside the law and who go to war rather than to court to settle disputes.

Then again, I’m not going to lie: right about now, the thought of Dimitry bursting through the door with guns blazing is pretty fucking appealing.

No.

I chastise myself as soon as I have the thought.

Not even Roman Borovsky, and the entire Stevanovsky clan, could win against this place.And I don’t ever want them to try.

I roll over and stare at the springs on the base of Lucky’s bunk, swallowing a painful lump of despair.

Jacey’s face, blank and dead eyed, swims before my eyes. I push it away with the discipline of long practice.

That face is the real reason I had to leave Spain.

It’s why Dimitry and I will always be an impossible relationship.

No matter how powerful Roman and the Stevanovskys might be, they won’t ever be big enough to fight a man like Jacey.

The triads who run this place might scare the hell out of most people, but to Jacey, they are nothing more than hired help. They build these compounds and run them, but they aren’t the driving force behind them.

Jacey mixes in a different world. A world beyond even the touch of the bratva. He deals in the darkest forms of corruptionman can conceive. He’s one of the faceless men with infinite wealth who hide behind multinational corporations and governments, hiring others to do their dirty work.

Except when someone gets too close—like I did.

Then they like to do the killing themselves. And not even the power of the bratva can stop them.

Which is exactly why Dimitry and I could never have worked.

Even if I manage by some miracle to escape this place, nothing will change that. He and I can never work.

Because no matter what hell I might have to face here, the one thing that keeps me sane is that, to my knowledge, Jacey doesn’t know anything about Dimitry or Roman or Darya. And so long as he doesn’t know about them, they’re safe.

I won’t ever do anything to change that.

Not even if it means I die in here.

I turn onto my side, my heart aching. No matter how much I ache for him, I know this is my cross to bear.

It’s time I faced the consequences of my own past, instead of wishing that Dimitry would save me from them.

7

Dimitry

London, England

Present Day

“London,” Roman says flatly down the phone line. “What the fuck are you doing in London, Dimitry?”

“I have a Naryshkin piece to deliver here.” I hold the top of the wrought iron fence that lines the park and take a mouthful of pallid English coffee, wishing I had vodka instead. “It’s taken quite some time to track down the owner.”