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just left it to heal as he usually did with all his physical injuries.

Nothing new.

“You don’t know everything, Masha. She was safe there, yes, but she wouldn’t have been for very long. Nothing is forever—not right now, anyway.”

“There is nothing you can tell me that will shock me.”

“I’m sure your life has been difficult, but I don’t have the fucking time to exchange stories.”

“I’m not looking for a story.” Masha’s eyes grew harder. She wasn’t pleading. Neither did she sound subservient anymore. She glared openly at him, letting him see exactly how she felt about what he’d done. Even though she didn’t know the full details, Roman still felt the shame as if she did.

“I need to know where she is. I need to be with her,” she added.

Roman weaved a hand through his hair, muttering, “You need to drop it, Masha, because it’s not going to happen. You’re not going to see Karine until I’ve decided it’s safe to do so.”

“Until you—”

“Yes, me,” he snapped back fast, tired of arguing with a woman who he owed nothing to. “I make the calls here.”

He wasn’t sure how certain he sounded because he hadn’t even been able to convince himself yet of it. How was he going to stay away from Karine?

Masha’s mouth parted in surprise, the facts of the matter finally beginning to sink in for her. Several times, she made attempts to say something, but she couldn’t form whatever words she wanted.

Roman lost his patience.

Fast.

“Excuse me,” he said, moving to step past her in the entry. “I need to speak to my father. You can just ... chill.”

“You’re going to pay for this.”

She hurled the words at him when he walked past. It made Roman stop in his tracks and turn to her again.

“What did you just fucking say to me?”

He’d given Masha chance after chance to back off—to recognize that yes, she was given more freedom in her place, but her place was a privilege here—but it seemed like she was only growing more bold with time.

“You will. You’ll pay for doing this. For keeping us apart.” Masha trembled as she spoke. He could see it wasn’t an easy feat for her to take a stand like she was, but he was losing all sympathy considering the circumstances.

Many, she didn’t even know.

“And you’ll be kicked out on your ass if you want to keep walking this fucking line with me,” he snarled at her, adding darkly, “I can make you disappear if I want to. Don’t forget it.”

Just to be clear.

Because apparently, it had to be.

Masha blinked in shock. What did she expect? He’d tried to be friendly with her. He didn’t want to handle her the way she had been treated by the Yazovs.

She had nothing more to say to that. He had put her firmly back in her place. For now, it was good enough.

Roman strode beyond the entry, deeper into the house with a nagging feeling that he would have to do something about Masha soon. Before she became a real problem for him.

He just didn’t know what.

*

He wasn’t expecting his mother to be in his father’s office with Demyan.

Two bulls led him inside, and shut the door behind them. Demyan and Claire were sat across from each other at the big oak desk. Each had a glass of vodka on ice in their hands.

They turned to look at their son. While Claire was in the room, Demyan paid her the respect of not filling it with cigar smoke. It was the only time Roman remembered his father not smoking in the space. It didn’t stop the smell from lingering on the walls, though.

“Roman!” Claire jumped off her chair and came over to give him a hug. He let her engulf him in an embrace that felt like home. For a moment, anyway. “We were so worried. Why would you do that—we didn’t know where you were, or what you were doing, why?”

She stroked her hands over his face affectionately, tucking the longer strands of his dark hair behind his ears. It reminded him that he needed a damn haircut because his distractions lately had caused him to put it aside. Roman pulled away from her, still fuming from his latest interaction with Masha and not wanting to show it to his ma.

She didn’t deserve that.

It wasn’t on her.

“I’m fine,” he assured. “Everything’s fine.”

“Where is she? Where’s Karine?” Claire asked, looking over his shoulder in the hopes that she’d somehow missed Karine behind him.

Fuck.

Maybe he should have explained before just showing up on them. It might have made this easier, but honestly, he doubted it.

“She’s not here, Ma. You had to have known I wouldn’t bring her back here. It’s not safe.”

Claire stepped away, her knowing gaze looking him up and down before finally asking, “So, where is she? Where did you take her?”

“Somewhere she can be safe, and can get the help she needs,” he replied.

When Roman met his father’s eyes he was unsure of his reaction. Demyan seemed calm. He always seemed fucking calm—that was the damn problem. He wasn’t able to gauge shit from Demyan when he needed to the most.

Why couldn’t he be like that, too?

“Getting help where? What are you talking about?”

His mother’s cluelessness about the overall situation pleased Roman. It meant his father hadn’t given anything away regarding Karine’s new location. The less people who knew, the better.

Loose lips sank ships.

Every fucking time.

Even if it was his ma.

Demyan was the only person who had some idea—a few details because Roman couldn’t make it all work on his own—but not the full picture.

“Claire, sit down, let him explain. He’s not going to give you any information he doesn’t want to share. Clearly, he’s gone to great lengths to keep a lot of it hidden from the world. For good reason, I promise.”

Demyan’s voice was firm, and while Claire was usually the one who had the upper hand in their relationship, his father also worshipped the ground his wife walked on.

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