Page 43 of His Darkest Obsession (Baryshev Bratva #1)

"A wife who was supposed to help you blackmail the mayor, not start a fucking war!" Roma reminds me. "A marriage of convenience that's suddenly looking very inconvenient for the bratva."

"Indigo is the key to everything. I need her."

"But does the bratva need her?" Roma challenges, his voice unusually hard.

My eyes narrow. "What are you saying, Romochka?"

"I'm loyal to you, Tolya. I always have been." Roma stares at me. "But at some point, you will find your commitment to your wife at odds with your commitment to the bratva. And when that happens, Tolya, I need to know that you'll choose what a pakhan is supposed to choose."

"When the time comes, I'll make the right choice," I tell Roma, voice firm and final. "Trust me."

Roma opens his mouth as if to argue, then seems to think better of it as he snaps his jaw closed and swallows whatever he was about to say.

"And while you were getting frantic calls from Mother and Vasya." I refill my glass, watching the clear liquid catch the light. "I was getting frantic calls from Bennet himself."

Roma's eyebrows shoot up. "And?"

"He's willing to hand control of the city over to me," I say, swirling the vodka. "But he needs me to remain quiet until after he wins the election."

"Quiet about what?"

"Whatever the hell happened with Indigo during her internship." I knock back the drink. "But I have his word that after he wins, he'll honor our original deal."

Roma leans forward in his chair. "Must've been something serious if he's still willing to offer you those original terms."

"Serious enough that he tried to have her killed."

Roma's eyes narrow in thought. "What could've happened in that internship to have Bennet so spooked about it getting out?"

"I don't know." I place my glass down. "But I did find out something earlier."

"What's that?"

"There's an NDA that Indigo was forced to sign after her summer internship with the mayor. I need you to find out what's in it by the time the election ends."

Roma nods slowly. "And what do you plan to do in the meantime?"

"Keep Indigo and her sister safe and hidden, and manage this fucking war that I started."

I lean back in my chair, but there's a knot forming in my gut. A twisted, ugly sensation telling me that I'm about to cross a line I shouldn't.

It feels like betrayal. Like I'm about to violate Indigo's privacy in the worst way possible by digging up something she desperately wants buried.

The thought of exposing her wounds is enough to make my heart tighten uncomfortably in my chest.

But I need to know.

For her sake as much as mine.

"This needs to be handled carefully," I continue. "You do this alone. No one else can know about it."

Roma's brow furrows. "Alone? Tolya, that's going to be difficult. You know Vasya's the one with the legal connections."

"I don't care. Find another way."

"It would go faster if—"

"Eto moi prikaz, Roma Stepanovich." My voice hardens as I use the words of command.

Roma stares at me, clearly trying to read what's behind my eyes. "Why all the secrecy? We've never operated like this before."

I think about the network of thin white scars crisscrossing Indigo's thighs. The way her eyes brightened in fascination in that dark basement as I killed the cops who murdered her parents.

And how she froze before running away when she saw Bennet at the gala.

"Because whatever's in that NDA is the source of Indigo's pain. And I won't cause her more pain than she's already endured by having her find out that I’m looking into it."

Roma's expression softens with understanding.

"That internship broke her," I continue, my voice low. "I want to know what fucking happened so that I can deal out the appropriate punishment. But I need to protect her at the same time, ponimayesh?"

Roma shakes his head slowly. "Do you hear yourself right now, Tolya? You're obsessed with this woman."

My jaw clenches. The truth in his words stings, but I refuse to acknowledge it. "Just get it done."

"This isn't about the bratva anymore," Roma presses, leaning forward. "It's getting personal. You're letting her cloud your judgment."

"I said get it fucking done." The words come out sharper than I intended.

Roma sighs and stands, straightening his shirt with a tug before he starts walking towards the door.

"One more thing." I wait until he meets my gaze. "Don't bother looking for the name Indigo Taylor."

Roma's eyebrows lift in question.

"Look for Amelia Taylor instead." Indigo's real name comes out soft and gentle on my lips.

Roma stares at me for several seconds, and I can see him trying to put the pieces together in his mind the same way that I had.

"Amelia Taylor," he repeats quietly.

I nod once, confirming.

He gives me a solemn nod, and then he walks out, leaving me alone in my thoughts.

I stare down at the glass of vodka in my hand as the door closes behind Roma. The clear liquid catches the light, reflecting little pillars of sun that match the burn in my chest whenever I think about her.

My thumb traces the rim of the crystal as I consider what I've just ordered my brother to do. Roma's right. This is personal. But how can it not be personal?

And more importantly, just when the hell did this happen? When did I cross the line from using her as a means to an end to... whatever this is now? I've killed men for her. I've threatened the Volkovs. I've started a fucking war last night.

And last night...

I can still feel her teeth scraping my skin, taste the salt of her sweat on my tongue, smell the sweetness of her hair tickling my nose, and hear her breathy moans nibbling at my ear.

We fucked last night, yes. But each time I buried myself inside of her, it felt less and less like fucking and more like lovemaking.

I pour another drink, my movements more aggressive than necessary.

The NDA. That's the key to everything. Whatever Bennet did to her—whatever made her carve those thin white lines into her thighs—it's all locked inside that document. I'm not asking Roma to find out to gain leverage.

I'm asking him to help me understand what broke her.

And then I'll burn down everything and break everyone who hurt her.

I rub my ring absently, feeling the double-headed eagle under my skin. My mother would say I'm a fool. Vassily would laugh at me. Even Roma thinks I've lost my mind.

Maybe I have.

But when she looked at me last night, when she surrendered everything to me... I've never felt more powerful. More needed. More alive.

I set the glass down hard enough that vodka splashes over the rim.

Whatever is happening between us, it's dangerous.

For both of us.