Page 45

45

LUCIA

I stare out the back seat window during the car ride back to the apartment. To my embarrassment, and probably because of the vast amount of wine I’ve consumed, the silent tears just won’t stop. Dimitry drives. Roman stares stone-faced ahead. He doesn’t say a word when the car pulls up in front of the building, just slams the door, opens mine, and propels me ahead of him into the building. Putting his arm around me to shield my face from the doorman, he herds me into the elevator. He hits the button for the penthouse floor without releasing me. I stand in the safe haven of his embrace, closing my eyes and inhaling his familiar scent, impressing it on my mind for the coming days, when I’ll have only the memory of it to comfort me.

I know we’ve hit the end of the road. I’ve seen it coming every day since we got back from the finca. I suppose I should be grateful he’s at least doing it in person.

“I’ll make coffee,” he says curtly when we get to the penthouse. “If you want a moment to freshen up.”

I half laugh, half cry. Roman isn’t a tears man, I already know that. And clearly he doesn’t want to deal with whatever emotional breakdown I’m having right now. I weave my way to the bathroom and turn the water on cold, trying to shock myself out of the weak, weeping mess I’ve become. I can’t seem to stop crying. I feel both ashamed and too tired to try to fight it.

At least he hasn’t got rid of my robe. Or not yet, at least.

I wonder why I even thought of it as my robe? A hundred women have probably used it before me.

That makes the slow tears start again. I mop them up, silently willing myself to get it together.

I wrap myself in the robe anyway. It was mine for a few weeks. That’s probably a record for Roman Stevanovsky.

I come into the main salon and pick up the steaming coffee on the dining table.

“You promised me you wouldn’t run.” Roman has his back to me, staring out the window.

I curl up in a small ball on the leather sofa, trying not to think of the times he’s thrown me down on it, tearing my clothes off in his haste to take me.

Those days are gone, sister.

I blow on the coffee, holding the hot cup between my hands, trying to stop the slow, rolling tears that just won’t fucking quit.

Roman turns around, his eyes narrowing when he sees my face. “Why are you crying?” he says accusingly.

I almost choke on my coffee, but I don’t yet trust myself to speak. And I don’t want to make the situation any worse.

“You need to start explaining yourself to me, Lu— ” He cuts off abruptly halfway through saying my name and turns swiftly away.

Oh, fuck.

I’m frozen in place on his sofa, the burning-hot cup in my hands forgotten.

He knows.

I’m as sure of it as I’ve ever been of anything.

He knows who I am.

It’s not like I didn’t figure this would happen eventually. Roman isn’t the kind of man to let a secret like that lie. And he’s got all the resources he needs to run down every lead until he gets answers.

Suddenly it all makes sense. His abrupt withdrawal, the way he hasn’t been able to so much as meet my eyes for almost two weeks. The way he’s managed my time so I barely spend any of it alone with the children.

He doesn’t trust me.

The tears start again, silent and thick, running unheeded down my cheeks. Whatever happened earlier tonight with Abby was just a small breach in the dam behind which my emotions are kept. But now I can feel the entire wall crumbling, the long years of terror and silence threatening to pour out of me in a torrent I’m only barely holding back.

“How long have you known?” My voice cracks. It’s painful to speak.

Roman swings around, frowning.

“You found out who I am.” I gulp a scalding mouthful of coffee in an attempt to gain control of myself. “I couldn’t work out what I’d done. I thought you’d... grown tired of me.” I shake my head tiredly. “But it was that all along, wasn’t it? You know who I am, and now you realize that I was right. You know it isn’t safe to have me around your children. I told you, Roman.” I put the coffee cup down with a slightly shaking hand. “I tried to warn you. It could have been Masha they took that day at the parade. It could have been any of the kids. You’re just starting to realize it now, aren’t you?”

As I speak, the tears dry up. There’s no point shedding them anymore. Tears are a luxury I can’t afford. I know Roman won’t throw me to the Orlovs, or at least, I think I know that. But I know he won’t let me stay, either.

At least I know why now , I think dully. Oddly, that helps.

Roman’s face is closed and hard. I stand up shakily. “I’m going to go downstairs and pack,” I say quietly. “I’ll be gone before morning. Papa too.”

I make it halfway across the room when his voice stops me. “Say it.”

I turn, confused. “Say what?”

“Your name. Fucking say it. Out loud.”

I shake my head, the tears that just dried up threatening again. “You know I can’t do that, Roman. I promised—”

“What about the fucking promises you made to me?” He hurls the words at me furiously. “To the kids? What about those promises—or don’t they matter to you?”

I stare at him in astonishment. “Of course they matter!”

“Then why?” He crosses the room and stares at me with hard eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why, even now, won’t you trust me enough just to say the words aloud?”

“What’s the point?” I say dully. “You know what my name is. You know who I am. Why do you need to humiliate me by making me break my word as well? At least leave me with that.” The tears start to spill again. “You can tell me to leave. I understand that, Roman. But please don’t make me betray the people I love. My word... that’s all I have now. The only thing I have left that’s actually mine.”

A faint crease appears between his eyes. “That’s it?” He’s staring at me with an expression I can’t read. “That’s the only reason you have for not telling me?”

“What other reason would I possibly have?” I’m tired and confused, and I don’t understand why he’s pushing this.

“Fine,” he says stiffly. “Then I’ll say it. Your name is Darya Petrovsky.”

It’s unsettling, hearing my name spoken aloud after so long. First by Ryder, now by Roman. The only other person who’s used it for six years is my father, and even then, rarely. It’s like having part of myself called up from the grave. I’ve buried Darya Petrovsky so completely that being called by her name feels dangerous, makes the world around me feel shaky and uncertain.

“Yes,” I whisper. The tears are coming now. I know I can’t hold them back. “That was... that used to be my name.”

“Your father is Sergei Petrovsky, pakhan of the Petrovsky bratva in Miami. Your brother is Alexei Petrovsky. Still living in your family home. Pakhan of your family, in name, if not in fact.”

“You’ve done your research.” It’s a feeble attempt at pride, but my shaking voice undermines it.

“Why did you come to Malaga?” His face is still hard, still closed. I wish he’d just let me go. I don’t have the energy for this fight. Not when I have to get ready to run. The dread rises up again, thick and choking.

“What does it matter now?” I turn away from him again. “Please, just let me go, Roman. I’ve got a lot to do—”

“Tell me why you came to Malaga.”

Bewildered, tired, and with wine still churning uneasily inside me, I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Because we didn’t have enough money to run any further, Roman, alright? Because by the time we made it from Morocco to Spain, my father was close to death and I was almost broken.” The dam breaks, tears spilling down my face. “That’s it, Roman. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“And the contract with me.” He steps closer, his eyes relentless on mine. “Why did you sign it, really? You told me once before that you knew what I was. What did you mean by that?”

“You’re bratva!” I stare at him, tears running down my face. “I knew what you were the moment I saw you, okay? Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to admit that I wanted your protection? Then yes, Roman. I did. But I never would have asked you for it. I never would have asked you for a damn thing. Even after we... after what happened, that day in your office, I wouldn’t have asked for it. But then you sent me that contract. I know I shouldn’t have signed it, okay? I always knew it would end up like this. I know you can’t have me in your house, around your children. I tried to tell you. I did. I tried to warn you.” Now I’m sobbing, but I’m past caring. I’m so far past it that I can barely stand up.

I have nothing left to lose.

“But you were so sure,” I say brokenly. “Papa... he told me it was dangerous. He wanted to run. It was my fault, Roman. My fault that we stayed.”

“Wait.” His hands cup my face, his eyes searching mine. “Your father wanted to run, after he found out who I was?”

“Of course he did,” I say dully. “He knew it was dangerous for us to stay. For you, as well as for us. I think he’ll be... relieved that we’re going.”

Roman stares at me, his eyes almost black. There’s none of the fire and fury I’m used to seeing in them. He looks almost as tired as I feel. All I really want to do is reach for him. And every moment that I can’t is like another dagger to the heart. “Please,” I whisper. “Just let me go, Roman.”

But he doesn’t.

“Abby,” he says roughly. “She said you thought I was... tired of you.” His mouth curls in distaste. “ Kicking you to the curb is the expression I believe she used.”

“That’s what I thought. Before I realized that you knew who I was. Abby doesn’t know about any of this,” I say, slightly defensively. “She doesn’t know my name, or where I come from, or even understand what you do. Don’t blame her.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Abby.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks, remarkably softly given his fierce expression. “What I do care about is why you could ever think that I would just... discard you.”

“But you are going to do that.” I lift my shoulders helplessly. “All we’re talking about is the reasons why you’re going to do it.”

“No, Lucia, I’m not.” He shakes his head, holding my eyes. “And I’m going to keep calling you that, by the way, because I don’t know who the hell Darya Petrovsky is. But I do know Lucia Lopez.” He cradles my face. “I know the Lucia who came into my home and changed it overnight. Changed me overnight. The girl who captured the hearts of my children the day they met her, and mine almost as quickly.” He draws me close to him and kisses me softly on the lips. “I didn’t pull away from you because I want you gone, Lucia. I pulled away... Well, some day I’ll tell you about the life I lived before I met you. It made me... hard. And made it hard for me to trust anyone. I thought that you’d found me deliberately. Targeted me, for some reason.”

I pull back from him, frowning through my tears. “Why would you think that?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” He laughs rather unsteadily. “I just... I was scared, Lucia. Fuck.” His thumbs wipe the tears from under my eyes. “Please don’t cry. You don’t know how much it breaks my heart to see you cry.”

“Why were you scared?” I can barely speak. I take his hands from my face and wrap them around my body, pressing myself close to him, trying to reassure myself that he’s actually here. That this horrible night isn’t going to end in me fleeing into the night, alone and afraid. “What could possibly scare Roman Stevanovsky?”

“Ha.” His laugh is choked. His head goes back, and he takes a deep breath before looking at me again. “The past leaves scars, Lucia. Loving you... I guess it felt like asking for another one. Especially when you wouldn’t trust me with your name. I guess I thought you were playing some kind of game with me.”

I stop his words with my mouth. The kiss is long and sweet, and by the time I pull away, my tears are gone and the familiar fire is starting to burn. “You said loving me,” I say softly. “Do you mean that, Roman?”

“Yes.” His answer comes immediately, without hesitation. “Yes, Lucia. Darya. Whatever name you use doesn’t matter. Whoever you are, I love you. I think I fell in love with you the day I saw you standing by that goddamn coffee machine. The ten minutes in the morning when I walked in and tried to make you blush were the best of my entire day. I spent hours thinking about how to get that blush from you, did you know that?”

I laugh shakily. “Not as long as I spent thinking about how to outsmart you. Did you know it took me an entire day on the phone to get bottles of Novoterskaya water in, after I heard you savage your assistant for not having it?”

He grins. “Do you know the only reason I savaged her was to see what you’d do?” His smile slowly fades. He touches his lips lightly to mine. “I don’t want to hide this anymore, Lucia. We can work out the details another time. But I don’t want these fears between us anymore. I want you here, in my house. In my bed. With my family. No contracts, no end date. I just want you here. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Roman.” He catches my mouth and it opens beneath his, my body melting into his embrace. “Yes, I can do that,” I murmur against his lips. “Because I’ve loved you just as long as you’ve loved me.” I pull back so he can see my eyes, and the naked need in his takes my breath away. “I love you so much it almost broke me tonight, when I thought you wanted me gone. I love you so much that I signed away my freedom and my body, because if that was the only way I could have you, then I’d take it. I’ve risked my father’s life and my own to be with you. And I’d do it all over again, if it meant I got to be here, with you and the children.”

“In that case,” Roman says roughly, “I think it’s time we’re done talking, don’t you?”

Picking me up, he walks me down the corridor and into the bedroom.