The Marriage (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 3) Bethany-Kris (read this if txt) 📖

the bull was enough to quiet the men again. Not that it really made a difference. They’d undoubtedly heard everything.

Roman was living with his failures, dealing with the consequences of his bad decisions, and toxic lifestyle ... his father just didn’t think it was enough, maybe.

Perhaps it wasn’t.

Demyan was already lighting another cigar by the time the man had swept the floor to find all the little shards. Pointing the cherry-red tip, smoking curling upward in tendrils, at Roman, he said, “What is happening in your relationship has nothing to do with staying in control—that’s where you’re weakest, Roman. And I don’t know how to help you fix that, son. I never did.”

THIRTEEN

Demyan kept good on his threat—Roman hadn’t done much since his father’s outburst. In fact, the first chance he had to leave the Avdonin property, he found himself face to face with a handful of men. Who, in no uncertain terms, made it clear what their orders were.

“You’ve gotten a few knocks to the head this past month—how many more before you’re drinking food from a straw, Roman?”

He had choices—and trying to make good ones.

Roman opted not to test the bull’s theory out, and had returned to the house.

Demyan also let it be known that he didn’t want Roman going anywhere alone. Staying in his own loft was out of the question, and the city apartment was no-go as well.

For the first time in over a decade, Roman found himself sleeping in his childhood bedroom.

Claire was surprised to find him at the breakfast table the next morning. Apparently, Demyan hadn’t filled her in on anything, and she’d gotten home late after visiting a gallery viewing by a friend in the city.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she told him, tightening the belt on her fluffy house robe.

“Coffee’s warm in the pot. I’ll be hanging around here for a while, Ma, so don’t be too surprised to see me here tomorrow morning.”

Claire was smiling because she suddenly and unexpectedly had her son back, but she could also sense Roman’s displeasure if the lingering glance she gave him was any indication.

“Something tells me this is not by your choice.”

Roman cleared his throat, muttering, “Some shit went down with dad.”

“What did you do?” she asked while she worked on making a coffee.

“Why do you automatically assume I did something?”

Claire tipped her head to the side, fixing a bemused stare at her son from her position across the kitchen island. “Did you?”

Roman wasn’t entirely sure of the conversations his mother and father had behind closed doors. Especially when it concerned him. His parents had always been careful in that regard, and Demyan’s desire to keep Roman’s problems out of Claire’s sight didn’t help with that, either.

“Well, did you?” his mother asked again.

Roman sighed, wrapping his hands around the lukewarm mug of coffee he’d been nursing for the better part of twenty minutes. “Maybe, but people around here seem to forget that I’m a grown man with a mind of my own. I’m prepared to face whatever consequences my actions have. I don’t need him—”

“You’ll always need him.”

Roman quieted, passing his mother a look.

She only shrugged back, adding, “Roman, a lot of your actions have consequences on your father and me, too.”

“Are you referring to Karine and my marriage to her?”

Claire brought a mug of coffee over to the table, and sat in the seat next to her son.

The absence of Karine and being forced to stay in his family home like he was a misbehaving teenager had put him on edge again. He had to furiously tap his fingers on the kitchen counter to control the urge to go looking for something that might cure the itch in his spine; to quell the chaotic emotions he hated feeling all the damn time.

But he wouldn’t.

It was an easy fix.

It didn’t last.

“It’s not just about Karine, and how dare you, because you know that I like her,” Claire scolded, though her tone remained kind. His mother had never needed to be mean to get a point across. “I think you’ve done very well by choosing her as the woman to spend your life with. That is not the part I’m worried about. There are some other choices you make that I don’t particularly care for.”

Reaching over, she patted his cheek like she used to when he was a boy, and he pulled himself away. Claire still smiled, anyway.

“You and your father think I don’t know about the demons chasing you, but I do, and I think I know why, too.”

Even though his mother didn’t seem unhappy or sad, he could sense how she saw right through him. It had probably taken her just a few seconds after she saw him sitting there to figure out what was really going on.

He didn’t want her to worry, though.

“I am good, Ma—or I’m trying,” he told her.

Claire nodded. “I hope so. I’m sure I can find something to keep you busy with while you’re here, hmm?”

“I’m not on house arrest, Ma,” he complained.

He’d certainly never been the type for chores. God knew she had enough maids to do things for her, anyhow. Roman promised his mother nothing in that regard, and she could tell his mood on that topic by the scowl settling into his face.

Claire broke into a laugh just as they heard feet shuffling and running outside the kitchen before two of the ladies who handled cleaning the bottom level of the house stumbled past the entryway.

Roman glanced up, his ear tuned to all the sounds. It seemed like some chaos had broken out in the house by the stampede of footsteps overhead.

“Did Demyan leave—”

“A good hour ago or more.”

Something had the men who were designated to stay inside the house in an uproar. Roman had already stood from the table, not bothering to push the chair in as he spun on his heels.

“Stay here—don’t move,” he barked at his mother, making a beeline for the door.

Whatever happened, it started in the driveway.