My throat feels tight as I get my first real glimpse of this side of Roman.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" I ask, carefully.
He doesn’t answer immediately, leaving me to wonder if my question affects him.
“No,” he finally admits. “You don’t.”
I pull the hood tighter around my face, unable to look away. I get it now. Much like the Georgians, I also have rules. Harsh rules that come with belonging to Roman Ivanov.
Yet… I don’t mind.
Roman isn’t a good person, but he’s not pretending or has ever pretended to be something he’s not. He didn’t lie to me tonight, not even when it would make things easier for him to keep me in the dark, ignorant and obedient. He’s shown me who he is and I accept him.
“Roman, what happens after you accept, adapt and move on?”
He looks at me confused. I frown, trying to find the right words. “I mean, after you get what you set out to get. Do you ever think about something else that you want? Not because it’s strategic or necessary. Or part of a plan. Something you want just because you want it.”
He's quiet for a while, so long I think he won't answer and I begin to regret asking the question. Finally, he looks at me in a way that makes me think he understands what I’m really asking.
"Sometimes.”
A beat of silence passes, before he asks, “You?”
"All the time," I whisper.
CHAPTER 12
ROMAN
“Do you know why you’re here, Denis?”
I’m against the wall, one hand in my pocket watching Misha, my top enforcer yank Denis by the hair, forcing his head up.
He cries out, his body tensing against the restraints, still refusing to answer. I’m not surprised. He’ll start talking soon. I push off the wall, stopping in front of the chair he’s tied to.
“That’s okay. I don’t mind answering for you. I don’t like games so let’s not play any. I know you bought from the Albanians.”
“I did buy from them,” he admits, eyeing me up and down. “Their product’s good.”
“I’m sure it is. Probably cheaper too. But that’s not what this is about.”
He jerks against the ropes. “If you don’t care about their product why the hell you sent your men to drag me out of my car, tying me up like a fucking pig.” He struggles some more. “Untie me, Ivanov.”
I ignore his request. “How long have you been dealing on my streets?”
“As long as your mother’s been sucking my dick.”
Misha’s fist comes up, but I hold him off, raising a finger. “No.”
Denis grins, like he got away with testing me. I smile back. “I’m glad you can joke. That makes one of us.” I reach behind for my knife, unsheathing the blade. “I can take a joke about my mother. She was a whore. It’s very funny.”
I hold the blade against his throat. “What I can’t take is a joke about people not doing what the fuck they’re told.”
Denis doesn’t move a muscle, he’s serious now, his eyes tracking the blade at his throat. I press hard, not enough to slice his throat, but enough to draw blood. “You’re lucky it’s not information you’re holding back from me.”
I slide the knife back and tuck it away in my pocket. “You and every dealer around here know the rules. You sell here because I allow you. You buy from who I tell you to buy from.”
“Ivanov—”
