CHAPTER 13
ROMAN
“Roman. Beautiful home.”
Garin had strolled into my house like he owned it.
I close the office doors behind him with a decisive thud. For a moment, all I can hear is the faint hum of the security system adjusting to his presence. Right now, he’s undergoing a full body scan that’s checking his heart rate and whether or not he’s armed.
All quiet. He’s not armed. Smart man.
I’m pissed off. I don’t like him in my home. I don’t like him near my son.He’s here uninvited. That alone tells me all I need to know.
This is a power play.
He’s dressed per usual, in a sleek, expensive suit that leaves no question about his financial status. His overcoat is draped over one arm, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“When you walk into my home without notice, the least you could do is show a little respect.”
An expression of confusion crosses his features. “Respect? Roman, respect should be implied.”
I’m not interested in arguing with him. He’s here to prove a point, but trying to pull that out in the open would be an exercise in futility.
“Then state your intentions. I doubt you’re here to admire the décor.”
Nikolai leans against one of the chairs across from my desk. “I merely dropped by to wish you luck with your upcoming IPO. It’s a monumental step. And one not many Bratva men like us would be able to take.”
The IPO. He wasn’t supposed to know about that yet.
I snort. “You’re not here to admire anything, Garin. You and I both know that.”
His eyes drift over to the window, hands clasped behind his back. He’s relaxed. Too relaxed. That’s how he operates. He always likes to appear calmer than everyone around him, as if the world runs on his time and everything is simply destined to work out to his advantage.
“You’ve changed the place. Feels warmer. Lived in. Even a little domestic. Like you’ve got a woman’s touch here now. That must be good for the boy.”
My blood heats. “Leave my family out of your mouth.”
He turns, giving me a mock-innocent expression. “Family? I thought she was just the nanny.”
He says it like it’s matter of fact, but there’s a probing curiosity beneath it. He wants to know who she is, if she means something to me.
“She’s not your concern.”
His smile widens just enough to show that despite my succinct answer, he knows he’s struck a nerve. “But Roman, everything related to you is my concern. After all, you’re my biggest competition here in our fair city. Friendly competition, but competition all the same.”
“Nothing about my family affects you. And if you mention my son again, I’ll see to it you leave this house in pieces.”
His grin becomes sinister. I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.He got under my skin, just like he wanted.
“There’s that famous Barinov rage, the one you try so hard to keep tamped down these days. Glad to know it’s still there.” He chuckles. “I remember those bloody days when your rage wasn’t so carefully hidden.”
I place my palms on the smooth, cool surface of my desk and lean against it. “Say what you came to say and leave.”
“Very well. We’re both busy men.” He clears his throat. “I’ve heard whispers, my friend. About you going legitimate. At first, I couldn’t believe it. Roman Barinov, the man who once killed another man with his bare hands going legitimate? Not a chance.”
I say nothing, letting him continue. He walks toward one of my shelves as he speaks, running his finger along the row of book spines.
“But the more I poked around, the more chatty bankers I spoke with, the more I realized it’s for real. You are trying to turn your Bratva into somethinglegitimate.” He says the word like it’s cursed.
