Page 44 of Only for Him (Starkov Bratva #1)

ROMAN

“Roman.”

Every night, a piece of me drifts farther from the mission and thought of her are pulling me down like a hook.

“Roman?”

If I close my eyes, I can still feel her sweet pussy clenching around my cock, see the bloodthirsty way she licks her lips when she leans over some pitiful bastard.

That’s when she’s prettiest, even more than when she’s cross-eyed with pleasure, grinding on top of me like she’s trying to overdose on the high I give her.

“Roman!”

Rosa’s voice cuts through the air, snapping me back to the moment. She’s leaning against the doorframe, eyes wary.

“Romochka, we’re having a conversation here,” she says. “Keep your head up her ass too long, you might forget what the real world smells like.”

“Don’t.” I raise a hand. “You don’t get to lecture me.”

“Oh, I don’t?” She arches a brow. “That’s news to me. Aren’t we in a free country now?”

I roll my eyes.

“Look at yourself,” she says, unimpressed. “You’re distracted, and we can’t afford that. Not now.”

The scars on her cheeks gleam in this light. I’m ashamed of how quickly I can forget that she has suffered as much as I have. Maybe more.

Not more than Anastasia, but more than me.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Her voice is sharp, all challenge and no fear. It stirs something ugly in me: resentful, defensive, hungry.

“You’re falling into something messy. You’re too focused on revenge for her sister. Who even was this man tonight?”

“A pedophilic sadist,” I say with a sneer. I suppose, he could have just been oblivious. Probably not, though. I know his type. All soft words and smiles until you turn off the lights. “And he worked with kids? Yeah, I’m not too fucking torn up about what happened to him.”

“But he wasn’t one of them, ” Rosa shakes her head. “This obsession will get us all killed. Her included. You might be okay with me dying, but I’m sure you don’t want Ms. Detective?—”

“You think this is just about her?” I grit my teeth, frustration flooding my system. “The Bratva killed that girl. She deserves as much justice as anyone.”

It’s true, but it’s also a smokescreen. I want justice for Serena because Giselle wants justice for Serena. Because I can see the pain in her eyes, and I need to get rid of it. Even if she walked away tomorrow, I don’t want to live in a world where she’s hurting.

It’s fucked up, I know, but I didn’t ask for this. She walked into my life and made it impossible for me not to keep her there.

She’s mine, and everything inside her is mine, too.

Rosa huffs a bitter laugh, folding her arms tighter. “I’m happy you’ve found a kindred spirit. Trust me, I never thought I’d say this about you of all people, but she seems to make you happy.”

My fists clench. Rosa’s pulling at the frayed ends of my control.

My little viper doesn’t make me happy.

She makes me fucking crazy.

“I’m being honest with you,” she goes on. “Since you clearly can’t be honest with yourself. You’re chasing feelings now, not facts. You’re veering off course.”

“Giselle is the course,” I snap. “She’s part of the job now.”

I sound like a junkie and Giselle is my addiction. And there’s nothing more terrifying than going clean.

“You haven’t given us anything about the auction,” Rosa clucks. “The whole point of that mission was to get intel. Dakota gave us names. And what? Give me something, Romochka. I’m serious. Tell me one thing you’ve done in the past two weeks to get us closer to that and not just Giselle.”

Rage licks at my spine, because I can’t. I don’t want Rosa to be right. If she’s right, then I have to stop giving Giselle what she needs.

And if I don’t have what she needs, what would keep her here?

Someday, she’ll need more than orgasms.

I possess her now. I’m sure of that. Her pussy drips for me, her body bows to me, her eyes ask questions only I can answer.

The future?

That’s a war I don’t know how to win.

And if she’s not in it, then what the fuck was any of this for?

Rosa shakes her head, a thin veneer of disappointment spread across her face. “You remember the spider on your chest? The one you cut away?”

“Of course,” I say, shifting as the memory floods back: ink dark and lively, eight legs reaching up for my neck.

“Then remember what it meant.” She steps closer, looking me dead in the eye. “You have to keep your distance. To survive in the underbelly, you must never cooperate. That includes with the NYPD.”

“I’m not Bratva anymore,” I growl, but the words feel hollow even as I spit them.

“You can say that all you want. But those marks on your body will always make you Bratva,” she counters, voice steady.

“What are you saying, Rosa?” I spit her name in a way that’s meant to hurt, and it does. She flinches.

Everything in me wants to protect Giselle: from Rosa, the world, the truth. If cruelty is what it takes, I’ll fucking wield it like a weapon.

“The more you chase Giselle down her path of vengeance, the more traces you leave,” Rosa says. “It’s a trail back to you and it’s too noticeable. You’re getting sloppy when you still have Dakota here, Roman. Or have you forgotten about her?”

My chest constricts. Before I can work my way through any of it, an alarm sounds on my computer, cutting through our conversation like a knife.

My stomach tightens as I swivel back to the desk. The screen pulses red with a fresh timestamp. The bug I placed on her phone has, so far, only shown me that she has at least one friend who cares about her.

My eyes flick to Rosa. Does she care about me? Really care?

She does. I know she does.

Fuck.

“What is it?” Rosa asks, her brow furrowing.

My blood runs cold as I read the words.

We need to talk about the special evidence you gave me. It’s important.

My hand clenches around the mouse.

Fucking hell. Special evidence? What did she give him? What did I give her ? I know about the prints. But, shit, I’ve given her so much more. More than I’ve even realized.

Because I stopped paying attention at some point. As long as she was here, as long as I was inside her, as long as we were together, I didn’t care about anything else.

“Damn it,” I mutter, air draining from my lungs.

Rosa leans closer, and I show her the message. Her expression shifts from confusion to something darker, anger mixing with a dangerous satisfaction.

“This proves it,” she says, voice thick with conviction. “She’s going to betray you.”

“I can’t think like that,” I insist, refusing to let fear cloud my judgement. I know my little viper. She wants this, and has wanted it all along.

She’ll do anything for this.

Anything for me.

“You can’t?” Rosa takes a step closer. “That’s too damn bad. You have to. She’ll choose her own before she chooses you. So, what are you going to do?”

“I need to let Giselle talk to him,” I reply, and the words stick in my throat like gravel. “I have to trust her. This is a test.”

“A test?” Rosa studies my face, her expression torn between frustration and concern. “You think this is a test for her? This is a test for you. ”

I force myself to meet her eyes. “I have to believe that she can handle it.”

The alarm fades into silence, but the weight of Rosa’s gaze remains. She doesn’t fucking get it, and how could she? I barely understand it myself. I’ve never needed anything so badly, never been so consumed by a woman.

I’ve definitely never thought that death would be preferable to being lied to by a goddamn cop.

“Just remember,” she warns. “No one is untouchable. Not even you.”

I step back from the screen, every nerve ending lit like a fuse, the darkness inside me unfurling again. It wants blood. It wants her. It wants vengeance. And I don’t know which it’ll get first.

“Come on,” I mutter, already moving for the door. If I stay, I’ll unravel. At the threshold, I glance back to Rosa, searching for any glimmer of reassurance in her eyes.

But it’s not there. Just cold disappointment.

Everything I’ve promised Giselle echo in my mind. Tonight, they feel heavier than ever.

I’ll either die between her and a bullet, or between her teeth.

Even if she kills me, I’ll go down smiling. Because I’m never fucking letting go.