Chapter 22 – Roman
“Peterson’s men were spotted near the docks last night,” Demyan said, his voice calm and collected. “It’s the third time this week. Coincidence? I think not.”
We were in my office, and he was seated in the chair across my desk, his dark chestnut hair simmering under the soft light. The air was thick with the sharp smell of vodka, a half-empty bottle sitting on the table between us with two glasses beside it.
“Peterson is all bark and no bite,” I answered, reclining in my chair, the thin thread of smoke from my cigarette curling around my face. “He’s just trying to get my attention.”
“Maybe,” he replied, “but don’t underestimate him or the length he’ll go to get your attention.”
I lifted the cigar to my lips, dragged on it, and let out a puff of smoke. “Trust me, brother. He’s not one I consider an enemy.”
He reached for his glass and took a sip. “We can’t be too careful, now, can we?”
My lips curled into a faint grin as I drummed my fingers on the surface of the table. I sat there in silence, struggling with the images of Scarlett’s face in my mind.
It had been almost three days since the last time we were together, and even until now, I could still taste her nectar on my tongue. The sound of her sweet moans echoed in my head, reminding me of the way her body responded to my touch.
Scarlett had shocked me when she surrendered completely and even confessed how much she loved it when I caressed her. Although I didn’t penetrate her that night, I was glad to have explored every inch of her body, claiming ownership of what was mine.
She’d smelled really good down there and tasted even better. I took my time with her, dedicated to making her feel more like a woman than she’d ever felt her whole life. The plan was to show her that I could be anything she wanted in bed.
I could be rough—a man who treated her body like a property he owned. I could also be gentle—a man who worshipped and adored her like the queen that she was. I wanted to leave an impression on her, give her something to remember, something to hold on to like a treasure.
With the memory of how I touched her and made her feel, she could easily play with herself in my absence. The fact that I caught her doing that that night was the confirmation I needed to finally realize that she was as attracted to me as I was to her.
The feeling was mutual. At least we’d established that now.
“Roman,” Demyon’s voice sliced through my thoughts.
I lifted my eyes and met his gaze, frowning slightly at how he interrupted my reminiscence.
“Are you with me?” he asked, his brows knitting together as a suspicious look etched itself on his face.
It was then that I realized I’d zoned out at some point during our conversation. I wasn’t sure exactly when I stopped listening, and it was clear he’d called my name multiple times before I snapped back to reality.
He stared at me for a while as if he was trying to read me like a book. “It’s her, isn’t it?” he asked. “She’s in your head.”
I didn’t respond, just dragged on my cigarette and stroked my jaw.
He rubbed his eyes, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “I can’t tell you how to live your life, brother,” he began, his eyes never leaving mine. “But people are starting to talk about your obsession with this girl.”
“She’s my wife,” I stated, my low voice sounding more like a warning than a correction. “Do well to remember that next time.”
He hesitated for a second. “Apologies.”
Silence.
He continued, “I’m just telling you to tread carefully. Rumors are already circling that your wife is your…weakness.”
“People will always talk, Demyon,” I said, releasing a puff of smoke. “No matter what you do.”
“It’s not enough reason to act recklessly and draw unwanted attention to yourself.”
My brows furrowed, accentuating the displeasure on my face.
He leaned in, elbows on the table. “Roman, you killed a man and his entire crew because they mentioned your wife’s name in a conversation.”
My blood boiled at his words, fingers curling into a fist. “They threatened her, Demyon,” I said through gritted teeth. “They threatened my wife!” I snapped, my voice rising higher than I intended. “I wasn’t going to sit back and partake in such a conversation.”
“And so you killed them?” he questioned, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.
“What is this, an interrogation?”
“I’m just trying to understand you, brother.”
“What’s there not to understand?” I raised my voice again. “They disrespected my wife, and I put them in their place. Whose side are you on anyway?”
“This isn’t about taking sides; it’s about accountability.”
“Don’t lecture me about accountability. You’d do the same if you were me.”
He paused, setting the rising tension to subside a little. It was clear that we were both speaking different languages, and this wasn’t something we should fight over.
I rubbed my eyes, poured myself a glass of vodka, and then swallowed it down my throat in a single shot. “Killing them all was a reckless move, yes,” I admitted, my voice low and even. “But they crossed the line, Demyon.”
He leaned back in his chair, a corny grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sound like a man who’s in love,” he said, teasing me.
My brows arched in surprise. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I poured myself another glass.
He laughed, his shoulder shaking slightly. “You’re in denial, brother.”
“No. You’re being delusional.”
He uncrossed his legs and edged closer. “It’s clear as crystal; you love her.”
His words struck me like a dagger to the heart.
“You killed ten men at once because they threatened her,” he said amid chuckles. “If that’s not proof of love, then I don’t know what is.”
I never thought about this way until now, and it made so much sense that it inflicted me with a kind of fear I hadn’t felt before. Sure, the thought had crossed my mind a few times, but I couldn’t find the right word to describe what I felt.
Could it be right? Was it possible that I…?
No. It couldn’t be true.
Right?
Fuck, no.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it; love is a beautiful thing,” he teased me with that pesky little smirk on his face. “Plus, it happens to even the worst of us.”
“Shut up.”
He let out a soft chuckle and reclined in his chair again, cradling his glass in his hand. “Just be careful, brother. Men like us can’t afford to show signs of vulnerability.
I sipped from my glass, watching him in silence.
He continued, “Because there are men like Lucian Sokolov out there who are waiting for the right opportunity to strike.”
The mere thought of that bastard son of a bitch made my blood boil with fury.
“Remember, if you let your heart lead, you could destroy everything we spent years building.”
After my brother left, I sat alone in the privacy of my office, thinking about his warning and his talks about my love for Scarlett. He was right; I needed to be more careful, especially with Lucian circling around like a vulture.
He was wrong, though, when he assumed my wife was my weakness. She wasn’t. She was my strength, the light in my dark, and the one person with the ability to bring out the best in me.
I wasn’t sure I loved her because I’d given up that feeling a long time ago. However, deep down, I thought about the possibility because she was different from the other women I’d been with. She stirred up the humanity in me and was gradually teaching me to view life through a different lens.
No woman had ever done that. No woman had ever gotten close enough to even attempt it. Yet, she was doing it without even trying.
I might not be sure about many things at this point in my life. But of this, I was sure: No one—no one—not even Lucian, would ever take her away from me. Ever!