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Roman

I t was gone midnight, and this prick still wasn’t home.

Roman rested his head against the wall, his dark hair blending into the peacock-inspired wallpaper that would only be chosen by someone with more sense than money. The rest of the apartment was similarly garish, with the couch he sat on being some sort of tweed monstrosity that, honestly, deserved to be set alight after the job was done. Was it any wonder that the apartment hadn’t sold?

He smiled down at the Dalmatian curled up on the sofa next to him. She wore her protective earmuffs, as she always did when she accompanied him on jobs. Roman had put a cushioning around them to allow her to sleep with them on because sometimes all they did was wait.

Like today.

At least he was waiting in the lap of luxury for once, instead of a camouflaged shelter in Death Valley, sweating his tits off.

Not that Jasmine came with him for those trips. She was only brought on the good ones.

The infrared sensors he’d set up hadn’t gone off, but Roman looked down the sight of the sniper rifle, sighing. The apartment in the high rise a mile over remained as empty as it had been since he’d arrived some fourteen hours earlier.

Even after the job was done, he’d still have to drive from Tijuana to Los Angeles.

Roman didn’t mind travelling for work, especially when he was working for the Silvas cartel. Their targets had all earned it in one way or another—this one, for instance, had attempted to assault a cartel member’s daughter.

Suddenly, his earphones came to life, humming a familiar ringtone he’d assigned to just one person. Roman answered the call with a quick tap. “Please tell me this is a booty call.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but no,” Jensen Stone began, Roman’s all-time favourite cellmate. “Aldous is on the call as well.”

He’d only truly met Aldous once. All the man had done was glare at him, but fuck if Aldous didn’t intrigue him. “Well, now I’m very disappointed it’s not a booty call. That’s two items off my bucket list right there. Two Stones, one Roman.”

“We need your help,” Jensen said, over a sneer of disgust that could have only come from Aldous. “Stone Holdings has just bought a company in Los Angeles. I don’t know whether you know it, Alpine Ridg—”

“I know. I’ve seen the news. Aldous has come out here to run it.”

“Yeah, well, the company we bought turned out to be a front for some crime syndicate, and they’re trying to extort me,” Aldous snarled, as aggressive as ever.

“Ooh, crime syndicate? Which one?” Throughout his career, Roman had probably worked with every crime family on the West Coast. Unlike Jensen, Roman hadn’t simply committed one crime and called it a day; he’d made it his living.

He’d started small, stealing sweets from the shop near the group home he grew up in, but as an adult discovered his talents lay in more violent crimes. He’d met Jensen during one such job, whilst he was carrying out a hit inside a prison.

“Does the name Vivian Yarborough mean anything to you?” Jensen asked.

Roman’s eyes widened, the back of his neck prickling with tension. They were being threatened by the Syndicate ? ! “Uh… yeah, it does. What does she want specifically?”

“She wants me to marry her younger daughter so she has access to my money and influence.”

Roman’s lips parted as he connected the dots. His old friend Koa headed Vivian’s private security. Hadn’t Koa mentioned something about a wedding recently? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled down to their latest conversation.

If you’re in need of more work, V is ramping up her security for Brianna’s wedding next month.

Koa

“Yeah, that tracks,” Roman grimaced. “She’s currently hiring more human shields for your wedding.” Vivian had been amassing resources and influence since the early nineties, buying out or otherwise disposing of her competitors until the Syndicate was the only one left standing. “And you want my help with that.”

Aldous spoke again. “She said she’d know if I went to the police. Was she bullshitting?”

“No,” he stressed, winking at Jasmine as she uncurled herself, slid off the sofa, and padded over to her water bowl. “Vivian has eyes and ears everywhere. Whatever you do, do not go to the police. She will know, and she will retaliate. Usually against the youngest, most vulnerable members of a family.”

As the father of one of the youngest, most vulnerable members, Jensen swore beneath his breath.

“Then I don’t have a choice,” Aldous said decisively.

Roman tapped the arm of the hideous tweed sofa, checking down the sight of the sniper rifle; the target’s apartment remained empty. Deep in thought, he considered Aldous’s situation—and Koa’s message. Brianna.

Whenever he’d worked with Vivian, she’d always had her oldest daughter, Reina, with her. But Brianna? She had always been most notable by her absence. From the bits and pieces he’d learnt over the years, Roman knew Brianna had refused a position in the Syndicate and left for college soon after she’d turned eighteen.

Reina, by comparison, had taken the first position she’d been offered.

“No,” Jensen commanded, full of ferocity—as Roman knew he would be—at the suggestion of Aldous coming to any more harm. “You don’t have to go through with this. You’ve gone through more than enough . Let one of us—”

“You and Warren have kids. Rhys is fucking bedbound more often than not. I didn’t call you because I needed to be saved again, Jensen. I called to work out a plan .”

Roman spoke up, keeping his eye trained on the rifle’s sight. “I might be able to help with that.”

“Namely?” Jensen asked.

“You may be out of legal options, but working outside the law is my speciality, Jenny. And if she’s threatened you, threatened Felix , then my help is already yours.” They were the closest thing to family he had.

“Meaning what?” Aldous gave a short, harsh laugh. “You’re just going to execute her?”

“Not quite. The Syndicate isn’t just Vivian herself. If she’s taken out of the picture, the second-in-command will take her place, and we’ll snake back down to square one.”

Jensen exhaled, and Roman could tell it was full of disappointment. “So Aldous is going to have to go through with the marriage?”

“’Fraid so, but I have an idea.” Movement on the infrared sensors caught his eye—his target had finally arrived home. He trained the sniper rifle on the man as he walked through his apartment, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Then tell us ,” Aldous snapped, sizzling with impatience.

“One sec,” Roman said softly. As much as he was enjoying Aldous’s Dom vibes, he centred his attention on the target standing in front of his toilet. Perfect. “I’m working.”

For the first time that evening, his finger found the trigger—and pulled.

The next few moments were crucial. Attempting to hit a target from a mile away was fraught with difficulties, one of which was that it took the bullet a couple of seconds to even reach the target. And if the target was of the living and breathing variety, there was every chance they’d have moved by the time the bullet reached them.

There was no chance they’d hear the shot and take cover, however; the bullet would reach them before the sound would.

“Wait,” Aldous’s voice came in his ear, “was that a gunshot ?”

Roman didn’t answer immediately, smirking as the bullet finally found its mark—exactly where he’d aimed it, straight through the back of the target’s head. A spray of blood and smoke exploded across his line of sight, and when it cleared, the only evidence that a man had just stood in that spot was the scarlet mist splattered across the walls. “You sound horrified.”

“Did you just… did you just kill someone?” Aldous’s uneasiness was almost tangible, bless his little cotton socks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had the urge?” he asked, his voice lowering to a sensual hush. “I’ve seen that fire in your eyes. Have you never considered putting all that brutality to good use?”

“Roman,” Jensen interrupted, forever doomed to sound like the adult in the room. “What’s your plan?”

“Well, thankfully for you, my friend, I happen to be besties with the head of Vivian’s home security. And guess who’s hiring?”

Although Roman had encountered the Syndicate over the years, he’d never visited the home of its leader, Vivian Yarborough. Somehow he’d always envisioned her living in a fortress within an active volcano like a Bond villain.

The main building in the Yarborough compound, however, had the arched windows and terracotta tiles of any Spanish-inspired mansion. The security office was located in the smallest building in the compound—and Roman could see every inch of the property from within it. True to form, security cameras were plastered across the compound; he could see that the aloe plants in the compound’s north-east corner could do with watering, but the Cholla cactuses scattered around the south wall were looking great, their spines eagerly searching for an unwilling victim.

Vivian had a team of guards working at the compound, but given that he had only been hired for the wedding he didn’t have an awful lot to do other than go over the role allocation, risk assessment, and evacuation plans for the wedding itself. It was significantly more regimented than he was used to, but he didn’t mind the work.

Despite Koa vouching for him, Vivian still didn’t trust him. While the other guards were trusted to monitor her communications, escort the family around, and patrol the property, he wasn’t given access to anything more deadly than a pen knife.

Fair play given what he was planning—but it did amuse him.

He was reading the role allocation plans for the wedding for perhaps the billionth time when an alert tone lifted his head. One of the three Yarboroughs had left the main house—Brianna.

Across the desk, Koa made eye contact with him, brandishing a pen in his direction. “Behave.”

Winking, Roman gave Jasmine’s ear a scratch. He’d been pleased to be able to bring her with him, but then all the guards lived on-site, so he’d simply been assigned to the empty bedroom in Koa’s lodge for the fortnight he’d be here. And Koa loved Jasmine. “I always behave.”

“Remind me,” Koa tapped the pen on the desk, “how many times have you been shot for insulting someone?”

“If the bastard didn’t want to be insulted, then he shouldn’t have tried to hijack our car. And I wasn’t shot . The bullet barely even grazed me.”

Koa pinched the bridge of his nose. “We were in the middle of Raqqa during the height of its occupation. You should have let him take the fucking car rather than bring attention to ourselves.”

Roman shrugged, watching Brianna walk up the path on the security camera. It was an argument they’d had before, but then Koa had been in the special forces when they were in Raqqa. At that point, he’d been used to doing things through the proper channels . “It all worked out in the end. We helped to capture the city.”

“Not before you’d lost a litre of blood and nearly died.”

“We all nearly died,” he said quietly. Unlike Koa, though, Roman’s death would have meant little in the grand scheme of things. There would be no memorials or honours. If he was lucky, he’d get an unmarked grave in the desert. “Must be nice for you to be back on your home turf though.”

Koa made a non-committal noise. “It’s still a couple hours away from where I grew up.”

“You visit much?”

Another grunt. “No.”

Roman didn’t prod further, taking it as confirmation that Koa’s father was still an arsehole and his stepbrother still a prick.

Lifting his chin, Koa buzzed Brianna in as her hand met the door handle, letting a wave of the baking California heat into the air-conditioned office. “Hey Koa,” Brianna’s unexpectedly sad smile hit Roman like a tonne of bricks. A head of black corkscrew curls bounced with her every move, breaking up the low sunlight drifting through the glass. “Roman, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, trying not to think of the fact that this was the woman who was going to be marrying Aldous in a week. He wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of—Aldous because he’d get to be with Brianna or Brianna because she’d get to be with Aldous.

“Mind if I join you guys?”

“Sure,” Koa gave her a kind smile.

“Can I say hi to your dog?” she asked.

“Of course. Her name is Jasmine.” He couldn’t help but watch as Brianna slid onto the floor beside him, stroking Jasmine until the furry tart all but sat in her lap, her thin tail thwacking onto the floor with happiness.

With Brianna occupied, Roman allowed his eyes to deftly skim over her skin, taking in everything from the obvious to the subtle. She wore a bright blue summer dress that was perfection against her dark skin, but his focus was drawn to the reddened cast to her eyes.

Roman guessed that had to do with Vivian arriving home from the Syndicate’s headquarters about half an hour ago. “I hope you know Jasmine isn’t ever going to leave you alone now.”

Brianna’s teeth flashed in an ivory grin. “Oh no,” she rolled her eyes. “How will I cope?”

Roman could already guess the answer, but he wanted to see what else she would reveal. “Are you looking forward to your wedding?”

Predictably, Brianna’s face fell. She let out a short, harsh laugh. “Sure,” she rasped, her voice cracking. “Let’s go with that.”

“Everyone cries at some point before their wedding,” he assured her.

She pulled her bottom lip beneath her teeth, her hand continuously stroking Jasmine’s sleek fur. “Do you speak from experience?”

There was something familiar about her, he realised. Then again, she probably just reminded him of the ice queen that was her mother. “You trying to work out if I’m single, cutie?” He sent her a wink.

Koa cleared his throat, spearing him with a glare.

“Koa has it right.” Roman nodded seriously, but he couldn’t keep the edge of his lip from curling into a coy smirk. He lowered his voice. “Stop flirting with me. This is a workplace.”

Brianna let her spine rest against the wall of the security office, eyeing him with a playful air. “You gonna report me to HR?”

“I think I have to, Miss Yarborough.”

“Call me Bri.” She smiled. Getting to her feet, she bent to say goodbye to Jasmine before leaning towards Roman. “And maybe I was trying to work out if you were single.”

A slow smirk grew across his face as he watched her float away, leaving a trail of flowery perfume and blue balls in her wake. A long moment later, Roman turned to Koa. “You know one of the security team is going with her full-time after she marries?”

Koa’s narrowed eyes were full of dark brown disapproval. “Yes.”

“It’s going to be me.”

“I thought you just needed a few days’ work?” Koa frowned.

Roman shrugged. “Circumstances change.”

Koa stood to slide a folder back onto one of the shelves cresting the wall. “Even so, we’ve already decided; Manuel is going with her. His record is crystal clear and, more importantly, he knows Brianna.”

Roman’s eyebrow kicked up. Manuel was a good bodyguard, that much was true. But…

“In a firefight,” he began slowly, letting the silence do the talking as much as his words. “Who do you think Brianna has the best chance of survival with—Manuel… or me?”

There was a long silence as Koa glared at him, crossing his bulky arms over his broad frame, tattoos winding around both of them. Eventually, though, Koa shook his head and sighed. “You’re such a fucking pain in my ass.”

Swivelling side to side on the office chair, Roman gave him a sparkling grin. “Love you!”