Chapter 29 #2
But so is Fabian. So was Afrim, when he wanted to be. So am I, for that matter. Everyone in this line of business lies. It’s currency, survival, strategy all rolled into one.
“You don’t believe me,” she says numbly.
But that’s the damn thing, though. I don’t fully trust her—not with everything, not yet. But in this specific instance, I do believe her.
My throat’s gone completely dry as I push back from my desk and rake a hand through my hair. I should cut it now that Ate’s dead. I only let it grow this long because it used to annoy him, and that minor rebellion felt important somehow. My heart pangs sharply at the thought.
“You have to admit,” I say, pacing past her, “it’s too convenient. You just happened to find this ledger filled with all these damming accusations in my father’s office? During his funeral?”
She looks like she’s ready to fight as she spins to face me, but I don’t miss the flash of hurt in her blue eyes before she masks it. “Huh,” she murmurs, as if she’s genuinely shocked. “I agonized for hours whether I should even bring this up to you or not, and this is what I get? Suspicion?”
She scoffs as she starts walking towards the door. “I should have known you didn’t really mean it when you said you wanted to work together. It’s always been me against the world. Why should any of that change now?”
The hurt in her voice hits harder than I expect. I move, planting my palm against the door before she can open it. Then I twist the key in the lock and pocket it, effectively trapping her in the office with me.
She spins around, glowering up at me with fire in her eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You forgot your phone,” I say, my voice gentling despite myself as I study her.
Different emotions play over her face as she glances back at my desk, at her phone, and back at me—anger, hurt, so much hurt, and even more anger layered on top.
It’s a little fascinating, really. I hadn’t realized until this moment that I have the power to hurt her this deeply with just my words.
“Open this door and let me out, right the fuck now!” she demands, raising her voice.
My hand slips from the door to circle around her wrist. Her gaze drops to where I’m touching her, and she falters noticeably, her glare wavering briefly before she looks back up at me. “Tell me the truth now, Katina, and maybe I’ll believe you.”
“I’m telling you the fucking truth, okay?
! I went into Afrim’s office to—to look for something I could use as insurance.
Just in case. A backup plan if everything went to shit.
I found a false panel in one of the desk drawers, and there was an envelope inside with the ledger.
Why the fuck would I lie about that? I didn’t even know you had an uncle named fucking Fabian. Is that even an Albanian name?”
She’s rambling now, and it’s… cute. Fuck, what the hell am I thinking?
I rub my thumb over her inner wrist, feeling her pulse scatter and race under my touch. “If you’re lying to me about this…” I let my words hang ominously, though deep down, I already knew she was telling the truth as I studied that ledger.
“I’m not. And fuck you if you don’t believe me. I don’t care.” She starts struggling to pull her wrist free from my grip, but I only tighten my hold. I’m never letting her go.
As I watch her glare up at me, I wonder if I should tell her the information I’ve been holding onto since last night. In the end, I decide to tell her—if only to make her stop struggling. “I found your sister.”
She immediately stops resisting, her body stiffening as her head jerks up.
Those blue eyes go huge, almost impossibly wide.
She doesn’t say anything at first—just blinks rapidly like maybe she didn’t hear me correctly.
My breath catches at the raw, desperate vulnerability suddenly naked in her gaze.
“What?” she finally manages, voice small and rough.
“Ironically, I found her in Long Island,” I tell her, continuing to rub my thumb over the soft skin of her wrist in a gesture that’s meant to be soothing but is having an entirely different effect on my body.
My pants tighten uncomfortably at the crotch as the semi I’ve been sporting since she walked in stirs to full attention.
I’m such a fucker. How can I possibly be getting aroused in this fucked-up situation? But that’s what she does to me. Makes me so fucking out of control.
Her lips part, and I have to actively force myself not to imagine feeding my cock between them, but it’s hard. “Fabian’s stronghold,” she whispers, not realizing where my thoughts have devolved to.
I drag my attention back to her eyes and nod slowly. “It doesn’t prove anything,” I add, though even I know how weak that sounds. The timing, the location—it all lines up too perfectly to be coincidence. “But yeah. Long Island’s his territory.”
She jitters in place, barely containing herself as she tugs insistently at my arm. “Great. Let’s go get her. What are we waiting for?”
But I only tighten my grip on her wrist, keeping her exactly where she is.
“Not so fast, love.” I pull her back to me and give her a light shake, just enough to recapture her attention, to make her focus.
“We need to be smart about this. Play our cards right. You think Fabian doesn’t have multiple layers of protection around her?
He’s not keeping her in some random apartment with minimal security. ”
She exhales hard, her jaw going tight with tension. But she nods, and I can literally see her brain forcing itself to slow down and think rationally. One wrong move and she could lose her sister for good. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“I’ll come up with one,” I say honestly. I don’t have all the details figured out yet, not fully. But I will. I always do. “Later. Soon.”
And then I look at her—really look at her.
Her mouth is still parted, her chest rising and falling a little too fast, and she’s so close the warmth of her breath tickles my skin.
Everything around us is fucked—my father’s dead, my family’s cracking apart, her sister’s barely out of reach—but she’s here. With me. Working with me.
Without thinking, I lean down and do what I’ve wanted to do since the moment she walked in here—I kiss her. Hard.
She freezes for a second, her hands caught awkwardly between our bodies. “Roan,” she breathes, lips brushing mine. “Now’s not the right time.”
“Shh,” I murmur against her mouth, one hand already sliding to the back of her neck. “Let me make us feel good.”
Because I need it. I need something to cut through the noise in my head, the weight in my chest. And I think she needs it too.
I kiss her deeper, more insistently, and this time she doesn’t fight it. Her hand lands on my chest, hesitant at first, then presses a little firmer.
Her lips part again, and I take advantage, pushing the kiss further, claiming her mouth thoroughly. Her hand moves up to my shoulder, gripping tightly. I don’t know if she’s going to push me away or pull me closer, but I don’t stop to find out.