He turns at the sound of my footsteps, his gaze moves over me, taking in the new clothes.
“Better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
The briefest hint of a smile touches his lips before his features close up. I swallow hard, moving closer to him, stopping when I notice the gun under his jacket.
"Can you bring that in the meeting?” I point to his waist.
He lets out a soft laugh. “No. Not even my father is that stupid. All weapons get checked at the door.”
“That can’t be good.”
“No. It’s not.” He flicks his hand in the air. “It’s protocol. The Pakhan is never alone without his guards nearby. That’s what makes killing him difficult. If I do it, I’m dead within seconds. If I somehow manage to kill him and survive—without punishment—it still doesn’t make a difference. Not unless the organization backs me.”
His gaze sharpens, a thin smile appears. “You’ve done that, Nala. You gave me my allies.”
“It won’t matter if you don’t come back.”
“I will.”
“I hope so.” My voice softens. “I need you to teach me all that stuff you said you would.”
He raises a brow. “You need me alive to teach you the alphabet?”
“Yes. You also have to take me outside like you promised.”
“I didn't promise.”
I lift a shoulder. "You said you would. It’s the same thing, kind of.”
He presses a finger to his lip, studying me for a few seconds. “Let’s say I have to break this promise. For whatever reason I can’t come back.”
“Don’t—”
He raises a finger, cutting me off. "Listen to me.” He waits until I’m looking at him. “You’ll go into my room. There’s a small table by the bed. You’re going to look inside the drawer. There’s a burner phone and a piece of paper with a number on it. You’ll call that number and ask for Lev.”
Nausea settles in the pit of my stomach.
“He doesn’t know about you,” Roman continues. “But you can trust him. This only works if you read the note in the drawer to him. Then, he’ll help you.”
I don’t want to have to call this Lev person or enter Roman’s room without him being there. All I want is to shake my head and pretend this isn’t real, that this can’t happen.
I nod anyway.
“Good.” He gives me one last look, turns and leaves.
The door shuts and I’m alone. Again. This time I don’t think about the world I don’t fully exist in. I think about the one I’ll have to live in, where there’s no Roman Ivanov walking through that door.
CHAPTER 10
ROMAN
It’s eight fifty-five. The meeting starts at nine. There’s no council room tonight. This one’s at a storage facility with reinforced steel doors, concrete floors and a history of meetings that don’t end well. Two men stand guard outside the entrance. One of them I recognize, he’s Bratva, part of my father's personal security for almost a decade. The other I don't.
He’s huge, a few inches taller than me, built like a mountain with a scar starting at his temple, slicing clean across to his other ear.
Chechen. Has to be.
