Page 34 of Only for Him (Starkov Bratva #1)

Well, obviously. I didn’t intend on dropping her off at the goddamn mall with enough money for a pretzel just because that’s what she wanted.

Still, the weight of his words lands harder than I expect. The shadows over Dakota are real. They slither and cling. And we can’t pretend otherwise.

“Witness protection could work,” I say, my voice steady and cool. “We use what Dakota knows to pinpoint who else might be involved. Piece together their movements and leverage that to get her?—”

I turn to her, eyes begging forgiveness. We’re lying to her. No matter how gently I say it, no matter how righteous my tone, what we’re really doing is deciding for her.

“—sorry, you out of harm's way. And we can find other girls in your situation. Plus, if we move in official channels, this whole operation becomes legitimate.”

Roman’s expression darkens. I can’t stop the memory of last night, our fight in the office, his insistence that we do this on our own. I know he won’t like what I just said, but I’m not going to bite my tongue around him.

You’ll stay here and be obedient. That was the deal, wasn’t it? Before he chased me like prey and held me down and whispered that I was his.

It wasn’t exactly a signed contract. I can leave whenever I want, say whatever I want, do whatever I want.

Except you don’t want to, do you, Giselle?

This time, Roman’s voice is what shoves the thought down.

“Why would I want this legitimized?” His voice drips with disdain.

“I trust who I trust. That’s it. I don’t trust any other organization to do what I do without backdoor favors and bribes.

Every institution—even your precious fucking NYPD—is tainted.

If you think there are any incorruptible people out there, you’re na?ve. ”

I don’t flinch. I’ve stared into those eyes in worse circumstances. I’ve felt them on me while I begged him without words to go harder, deeper, more.

“Incorruptible?” I fire back, lips curling. “You mean like you? Roman the righteous. Roman the executioner.”

Rosa’s eyes widen and even Dakota’s lips start parting. Neither of them says a word. We’re giving them too good a show for them to interrupt.

His eyes blaze, but he doesn’t speak. For one second I think he might pin me to the wall, fuck this argument right out of me with his mouth or his hands or that damn knife.

Part of me wants him to try.

Now that would be a show.

Jesus fucking Christ, Giselle.

No. No. Focus.

But I’m still right. And I won’t stop saying it just because it makes his jaw clench.

“I’m assuming you consider me pretty incorruptible, given that I’m standing here right now. So that’s at least two people. You really think we can’t find more? We’ll move slow, take time to vet people one by one until we have enough to stand against this.”

“It’s too risky,” Roman dismisses with a wave of his hand. His palm still shows the vague outline of my teeth embedded in the flesh, and I shudder at the memory.

We’ve both marked each other now. Staked our territory.

There’s something between us that lives in the gray area between obsession and hate—a pull forged in violence, lust, and mutual understanding. Roman draws me in, even as every instinct tells me to bristle.

He sees me, and I’m starting to see him.

I think there’s a world where I’m okay with this.

I can’t believe it, but I think it’s true.

“I’m a risk, aren’t I?” I press, stepping forward. “And here I am.”

I meet his icy blue gaze with a resolve that wavers a second later when I remember: I’ve already proved to be a risk not worth taking. Arata has Roman’s DNA.

By now, it’s probably been processed. My stomach drops when I realize that the NYPD might be on their way here, right now.

Fuck.

Isn’t that what I want, though?

Isn’t that the justice I signed up?

Isn’t it the best for Dakota?

Because I must really be losing my mind. There is no world where Roman and I are anything but what the world sees us as: detective and murderer.

I’m drowning in the weight of all the choices I’ve made when Rosa speaks up, cutting through my panic. She has a playful smile—a real smile, not the scars curving over her cheeks—on her lips.

It reminds me that she’s beautiful behind them. I try to remember if I’ve seen her smile yet. This might be the first time. “She has a point, Roman. At least consider what she’s saying.”

I’m shocked. I didn’t expect her to take my side. I don’t think it means she feels good about me, but it means she’s willing to hear me out, which is a win.

Do I even want her on my side?

Do I believe Roman and her really don’t have anything besides a professional relationship?

I find that, actually, I do.

“Enough,” Roman snaps, annoyance radiating. “I have the final say here. There are forces in motion, Giselle. People who are untouchable.”

He towers over all of us—broader, heavier, dangerous in every inch of muscle and menace. But when I glance at Rosa and Dakota, I know something he might not: brawn won’t win this one.

We’re not scared little girls.

The other women might not agree with me, exactly, but they’re not going to let him brute force all of our futures.

Because I say so won’t work on us.

And we’re all telling him so without saying a word.

For a moment, Roman’s face is inscrutable, and I brace myself for another, louder rejection. But I won’t back down. I will protect Dakota, and if that means convincing him of the merit of my ideas, then so be it.

“I’ll consider what you’ve said,” he finally says, jaw tight, like the words cost him blood. “I’ll have my answer at dinner.”

I watch him for a beat longer, my breath hitching slightly. The air thrums. He takes a breath, and for a fleeting moment, something sad flickers in his gaze.

It actually hurts to see it.

It’s an opening. Maybe there’s a chance for understanding yet.

If Russo doesn’t SWAT this place first .

There’s a ticking clock on all of this, and I can’t forget that.

I want to forget it. Because it’s my fault.

The darkened corridors of the mansion whisper around us, shadows drawing close, the stakes echoing through the silent chambers of my mind.