Chapter 23
?
Luna
The meeting ends fairly quickly and I try to focus on what I need to code today. I have to applaud myself - for someone who was attacked in their own house less than twenty-four hours ago, I seem to be functioning normally. Anuska prepared something for me to eat, although I insisted it wasn't necessary, but after she gave me a look, I understood there was no negotiating with her.
It feels strange to be in Roman's house but not uncomfortable, which I suppose can be considered a plus. I keep thinking about what Roman's trying to discover, namely what you could use this source code for that would justify the effort to steal it. And clearly this isn't about code, but time. Many people can write you the code, but it takes time to cover every bit of functionality.
I'm lost in this train of thought while my fingers fly over the keyboard when I hear a voice shouting, just before the person enters the kitchen.
"I'm going to kill him, Anuska!"
And when I look up to see who's killing whom, my gaze locks on Victoria. Victoria whose monitoring bracelet I set up. Victoria who has a bodyguard. Victoria who has the same eyes that lean toward gray. How did I not look at her last name?
"Hi!" I make the most awkward hand wave in greeting because I'm frozen.
"Luna? What are you..." Her voice is as amazed as mine. She seems to realize why I'm here, and her eyes start to gleam suspiciously.
She's wearing powder-pink leggings and a white turtleneck. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and this only accentuates her resemblance to her brother.
"Victoria, for God's sake. Don't be like that. Luna is..."
I catch Anuska looking my way, and I look back because honestly? No clue what I am to him. His employee? Friend? Pretty sure you don't murder people for just a friend, but 'girlfriend' feels too... official, and we haven't exactly had that talk yet. Still, he did say I'm his, so maybe it's time to do something I haven't done in forever - just trust.
“Roman's girlfriend,” I say, and Victoria's eyes go huge.
Oh God. If I said the wrong thing and Roman gets mad...
Just as the anxiety starts clawing at my chest, Victoria circles the kitchen island and wraps me in a hug.
Okay...wasn't expecting that.
“Good to see you again, Luna. Maybe you can tell me why I've suddenly got two shadows instead of one, because I'm betting it has something to do with you.”
And I'm lost for words again. I know exactly why Roman's doing this, and the guilt hits hard - this whole mess is my fault. These people are turning their lives upside down because I made bad choices, and the anxiety comes rushing back full force. Just like before, when Aidan started showing up uninvited and following me everywhere. Everyone's lives got messed up then too, and even though no one blamed me, just knowing I was causing them trouble was enough.
“It’s my fault. I’ve gotten into some trouble and Roman thinks extra security's needed right now.”
Haven't talked to him about it, but it makes sense. After everything that's happened, I'd want to protect my family too.
“Hmm. What kind of trouble? Like...you stole some chips and the cops are after you, or...?”
Anuska practically jumps away from the stove.
“Victoria! You can't just — if your brother sees it as a threat, that should be enough!”
But I see it in Victoria's eyes - that look I know too well. Pain. Rejection. I Know it's not my place to tell her, but maybe if I'm honest, she'll get it. Maybe having the whole picture will make it easier to accept.
"My ex-boyfriend owes money to some people in the mafia. He's done this before, and then I had to pay his debt. Now someone broke into my house, probably for the same reason. An unpaid debt. Anton helped me escape from there, and Roman decided to bring me here."
When I stop talking, I let out a breath and stare at the floor.
Shame burns through me, but that old familiar numbness starts creeping in - the same emptiness that kept me company for months. I accept it all with the same resignation, knowing I don't have many choices. Without Roman, I'd probably be dead by now, or stuck in some police station giving statements.
I can't bring myself to look at Victoria's face, but I feel her hand cover mine, steadying my trembling fingers.
"Thanks for telling me, Luna. I know how to shoot a gun, so if we ever see that bastard on the street, just give me a signal and he'll have a bullet in his head. Promise!"
And then I raise my head, shocked by her words. This girl, who literally looks like a doll, knows how to shoot. And as confident as she is, she doesn't seem to be a beginner.
"Niko taught me to hold a gun when I was eight. I'm not one hundred percent sure on target, but if I aim for the head...worst case I hit the neck, which is still good."
The laugh that escapes me is so unexpected that even Anuska seems surprised for a second until she starts laughing too.
"You've already driven her crazy, child. Go change and come eat something. I can still lift you with one finger," she tells her, and Victoria nods but retreats.
"After their parents died, Roman and Niko wanted to ensure that if she ever found herself in danger, she'd be able to defend herself," Anuska tells me while taking some products from the fridge and putting them on the counter."And when the epilepsy episodes were discovered..."
And now I understand why Roman acquired the company. Gregory kept trying to market this application for various diseases, including epilepsy, having various stress markers recorded that can show you what happened during a seizure.
"I understand. Thank you for telling me, Anuska," I tell her, and try to brush off my mood so I can focus again on the work I have to finish.
After several hours on the laptop, I decide to go out for some air.
I meet two men who seem to be patrolling. Neither engages with me, just giving subtle nods in greeting and continuing on their way.
Behind the house is a garden with many shrubs, and beyond is an open space with grass and some trees.
I see a willow on one side, and when I approach, I notice some large kennels behind it. When a pitbull comes out of one of them, my heart stops, but not from fear. From adoration, because it's a white pitbull with brown spots, exactly like my parents had in my childhood. She seems to be slightly on guard, and I know it's not a good idea to rush toward them, but I take a few confident steps because...that's how I feel.
When there are only a few yards between us, I see her wagging her tail slightly, and I get down on my knees so I'm at her level. It's a position where, if somehow my instinct has deceived me, she can easily attack me, but when I see her approaching with her ears back, I melt.
"God, you're so beautiful!"
A second pitbull comes out of the kennel, but this one is almost solid black with just a white patch around his left eye. He's bigger than the female I'm now petting and looks more intimidating. I focus only on the dog in front of me, who is wearing a collar that says "Tara," so I address her by name.
"Nice to meet you, Tara. You take care of all these people, don't you?"
The mention of her name makes her wag her tail more excitedly. Meanwhile, the other dog doesn't seem to advance even an inch, and when I take a step forward toward him, I see his body tensing.
Okay, I understand it's not the moment to try more. I squint to see his collar and make an attempt to read the name on it.
"Porto? We'll be friends, you'll see!"
And I don't know if it's the mention of his name or the fact that I kept my distance, but he seems to relax a little, and I feel victorious.
I don't know how much time passes, just that at some point I hear footsteps behind me, and when I see Roman approaching, I'm not the only one who seems ecstatic. Both Tara and Porto run toward him, and the image of this man kissing both dogs on top of their heads, the same affectionate gesture he’s given me, melts me completely. Having grown up with a pet at home, I understand it's not just an animal, it's family. It’s the soul that lies next to you in bed when you're sick and literally puts its head on yours to sleep beside you.
"I'm sorry I didn't have time to introduce you to the beasts," he tells me while approaching, and I can't help but close the distance between us and kiss him.
He smells of pine cones, forest, and something citrusy, and I'm going crazy. It's a slow kiss because no one can see us. It’s an I-missed-you kiss, it's an I-need-you kiss, and that's all I feel right now.
I try to bite his lower lip like last night because I can't help myself, but his tongue is engaged with mine and I can't break away from these movements. I feel his hands at the base of my back and I arch toward him, seeking a closeness that I know physically can't come any closer. We're pressed against each other, and if the sound vibrating from his throat is any indication, he feels the need for more too.
"How is it possible that I missed you so much when I just saw you a few hours ago?" he asks while we both take some necessary breaths.
"I don't know, but it's contagious, because I feel exactly the same," I tell him, and a satisfied smile appears on his lips.
It's as if since that kiss last night, we've torn down a wall, and all the attraction we were keeping under control has spilled over.
"I met Victoria today. Well, we already knew each other from the hospital when I did an update on the monitoring bracelets," I confess because I want to lift the weight from my chest about putting a status on our relationship without discussing it with him. "I told her I'm your girlfriend, and I'm sorry if I assu—"
His mouth crashes into mine before I can finish.
"I'm glad you told her that."
He breathes the words against my lips, and I can't help but smile. Not just any smile - one that comes from deep inside because this thing between us isn't just in my head. He's showing me, proving it with every move.
"I’d guessed you'd already met," he tells me, smiling against my mouth.
My look is questioning, so he clarifies.
"When Goran called to tell me that he couldn't find her and I came to the hospital, I approached her and she smelled like flowers. Victoria always smells like sugar cookies, never flowers. Then I met you, and one day you wore the same perfume," he tells me so simply, as if there's nothing special about it.
"You can recognize perfumes that easily?" is all my mind can produce right now.
"Your perfume? Always," he tells me while his nose sniffs at the base of my neck.
Right now I'm wearing a perfume sample I threw in my bag.
"Let's go inside, you'll freeze out here. Plus, I have a surprise for you," he tells me when I finally let go and we head toward the house.
"I don’t think Porto likes me very much," I tell him as his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me toward him.
"It's not your fault. I rescued him from someone who organized illegal dog fights, and he's still recovering from trauma. But he's a good dog and has been very receptive to training."
My heart shrinks. I can't comprehend all the torture those animals go through and how someone would pay to see such a thing.
"What happened to the other dogs?” I don't want to think about it, but the words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
"I have two shelters for them outside the city, where someone permanently takes care of everything they need. They have land, and it's a safe place for them to enjoy freedom but not be in danger of being caught by the wrong people, in case they escape from the enclosure and aren't seen."
My heart can't handle this man.
"Can we talk before dinner?" I ask him, because there are things that have been gnawing at me since morning and I can't avoid them anymore.
"Sure, but first let's see your surprise."
Roman takes my hand and leads me up the stairs to his bedroom. The butterflies in my stomach go crazy just feeling him next to me. It's as if I've opened the cage where I kept them captive and now they’re unrestrained. It thrills me that I can touch this man when I want and how I want, without feeling guilty anymore.
I still have moments when I'm troubled by the fact that he's part of the mafia, but after every moment spent in his house, among the people he cares about, it becomes easier to accept the situation.
This man has two shelters for dogs. My heart is going to explode, I swear. When he opens the bedroom door and I step inside, he leads me to the walk-in closet, where I stop suddenly in the middle of the room.
Directly in front of me, there's a cube shelf unit filled with perfumes. Every kind of perfume. My eyes pass over the pink, gold, white, and black bottles, and my vision starts to blur. When the first tear falls on my cheek, Roman's voice sounds worried beside me.
"Did I do something wrong? I assumed you'd need your perfumes, and since I didn't know exactly what broke yesterday and what didn't..."
Before he can finish, I throw myself into his arms.
"You didn't have to do this for me. You're already doing too much. I'm not doing anything for you," I whisper.
My heart was already trembling when it came to this man's presence. Roman being attentive and sweet? Okay. I can't handle this.
"The fact that you're here is all I want from you. I want you to want to be here, with me, in my house, without seeing doubt in your eyes. Because I can tell you that I have no doubts when it comes to you, Luna," he tells me with a serious expression, and his mouth covers mine.
My hands slide into his hair. Each second our lips touch shatters my doubts and insecurities. When his hands cup my bottom and pull me toward him, I feel every tense muscle of his body. Although my sexual appetite had dropped dramatically after everything that happened in recent months, now it's as if my entire body has suddenly reawakened, feeling tingles and warmth encompassing me from head to toe.
Suddenly the need for my hands to make contact with his skin becomes too much, and I start pushing his jacket off. My eyes open, and when I see his, how much desire and need is in them, it only injects more boldness into my actions. When the jacket hits the floor, I don't wait more than a second to start pulling his shirt from his pants so my hands can position themselves on his bare back.
Every muscle tenses under my touch, and there's something fascinating about how this man, who I know could hurt me with one hand if he wanted to, trembles under my touch.
"Luna." The sound is more of a breath, and when his mouth touches the pulse at my neck, I close my eyes and know I couldn't stop these feelings even if I wanted to.
Somehow, through all the haze caused by the need to be devoured by this man, I remember that we need to talk. I don't want to let things go further until I have some answers. I know, although it scares me, that whatever he tells me, I will accept his explanations. But I need this relationship to start based on honesty and trust.
"We need to have that discussion," I murmur, still pressed against his lips.
He opens his eyes and nods, regret clearly visible when he pulls away from me. His absence sends a cold shiver down my spine, and I want to smack myself for interrupting the moment, but I need to clarify some things. I need to feel he trusts me and explains the situation we're in.
Probably my own regret is visible on my face, because he straightens his clothes and says, in a low voice loaded with meaning, "This is the last time your request for a discussion will postpone me pinning you against the first wall I can find and making you scream my name.
Of course I blush, because this man is already enough to make a woman faint. But with his hair tousled, my marks on his back, and that slightly hoarse and affected voice?
Yes. Viagra for women. Without any doubt.
"Let's go to the office," he tells me, extending his hand.
?
Walking into Roman's office, I go blank. I’ve got a million questions fighting to get out but can't grab onto just one. Taking a breath, I try to clear my head - might as well get this over with. Will I like what I hear? Probably not, but better to know the truth. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
"What does your organization do, Roman?"
While I wait for the answer, I pray he doesn't say human trafficking, because I don't know how I would react. I know I said I would accept anything he told me, but when it comes to that, no.
"Mainly weapons, counterfeit goods, and drugs," he says so simply, as if he hadn't just listed three major criminal offences, but hey, it's not human trafficking, which is a plus in my head.
"Prostitution?"
I raise my eyebrows because I know he has a club, and rather than guess, better to put all my doubts on the table.
"By choice. All the girls who do this in my club do it because they want to, not because they're forced, Luna. I have a sister, I have Anuska, and now you. I would never force a woman to sell her body."
I feel the indignation in his tone, but I need these answers, and although I don't feel about anyone how I feel about him, that doesn't mean I shouldn't hear the truth from his mouth.
"What happened with Roxy's police call?"
That's another thing I haven't understood. I avoided telling Roxy that the police never showed up, so as not to panic her, but I need to know in case they come poking around.
"The Chicago police chief is a friend, and I have someone very good at telecommunications and computers. Your friend's call never reached a police patrol."
And I must be staring, because he looks slightly amused by the whole situation.
"What happened to the man from last night?"
His back straightens, and I know he's about to evade the question.
"The less you know about these matters, the better. And before you tell me you need to know, I want you to understand that this is for your protection, and mine too. If you're ever questioned, it's better not to know the details. But he's exactly where he needs to be."
Okay. He's dead. Oh God.
"It has to do with Aidan, doesn't it?"
It's the question that's been bothering me since last night. I paid the last debt. I don't understand why I'm still their target.
"Yes, he racked up more debt, and you were put up as collateral," is all he tells me, and I can see him getting angry.
"I don't understand why. I told Damien I would never pay money for him again..."
"What did you say? Damien?" he asks, standing up and taking his phone in hand, calling someone, judging by how he's pressing the keys.
A few seconds later, a man answers him, but I can only distinguish that he has a deeper voice, and when Roman nearly shouts into the phone, I feel all the blood rushing to my face.
"Can you explain to me why my woman had to pay you a debt, Damien?"
He knows Damien? God, I'm so stupid. Of course he knows him. Roman runs the Russian mafia, and Damien the Polish one.
"Luna and Aidan. I swear, Damien, if you don't have a good explanation..."
I signal him to hang up because nothing good can come from this call, but I hear Damien speaking and some of the tension in Roman's shoulders seems to disappear.
"We'll continue this discussion tomorrow at my office!" And with that he hangs up and puts his hand to his temple.
"You didn't have to do that," I whisper, watching him close his eyes and take calming breaths.
"What's the name of the man who made the marks on your back, Luna?" he asks, and I know that if Igor wasn't already dead, he would kill him in the most torturous way possible.
"Damien killed him when he found out what he did to me."
And when he opens his eyes, I know I'm about to tell him everything that happened after Aidan arrived at my apartment and found me tied to a chair with Igor, his ‘artwork’ on my back. I give him the details about how Igor entered the apartment, everything that happened in that hour while we waited for Aidan to appear, and what followed when he wanted to renegotiate with Damien.
"I went the next day and took out a bank loan. I gave the money to Damien, and he threatened Aidan not to look for me if he didn't want problems with him," I whisper because the memory of that night always brings an emotional tornado to my soul.
All the pain I felt while that psychopath was cutting me, all the fear while sitting in the car, waiting to reach Damien. I don't even realize I'm crying until Roman approaches me and kisses my cheeks where tears have tracked down my skin. It's intimate and sweet and I hate how that night still has so much power over me.
"You can continue, love," he whispers.
"He hasn't bothered me in recent months, and I thought he understood the message, but apparently I'm the only fool who believed we'd left that incident behind."
I'm now crying uncontrollably. I try to breathe, to tell myself I did what I could in that situation, but the truth is I chose the coward's way out and now I'm paying for it.
"It's okay, Luna," he tells me, and my last shred of control gives way.
"Is the debt still with Damien?" And now I realize that the accent of the guy who broke in wasn't Eastern European like Igor's. Roman studies me for a few seconds, framing my face with his hands.
"The debt isn't with Damien now. It’s with the Irish mafia, whom I happen to not be on good terms with anyway. Nobody is going to ask you for that money, Luna. I swear!"
And I can only trust him and his words. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have the money, and I don't want to help Aidan anymore.
"Any more questions?" he asks while I'm fixed on his face.
"Just one," I whisper. "Are we officially together?" I try to smile through all the tears shed.
"We're more than that, moya dusha."
And he kisses me, long and slow, as if trying to erase the memories of that night with his taste and smell.
"I actually have one more question..." I tell him in a low tone.
My brain can't help but want to have all the wires connected, and now something escapes me. I see him raise his gaze, waiting for me to formulate my query. I feel...awkward, not knowing how to phrase it.
"Does this mean you want me to stay here? To move here?" I heard what he said earlier, but maybe I misinterpreted the message.
I can't just accept from day one the fact that he's the leader of a criminal organization, but the thought of returning to my apartment, where that man bled all over the floor, turns my stomach.
"You think I'd let you go back to that apartment?" His tone is severe, and I frown at the authority in it.
"We initially talked about me staying a few days."
I know he feels my undertone. I choose to stay with him. I choose to give this relationship a chance. I choose to be here. His tone makes me feel like I'm captive here, regardless of my choices.
"Luna, the only way you would have returned to that apartment would have been with me and a small army of men alongside. I would never have let you return there alone."
I feel the protectiveness vibrating from him, and I exhale.
"Okay," I whisper and take his hand.
I need to learn to accept that this man is used to having control, while he needs to learn to yield some of it.
"And how will things go from now on?" I ask him because I feel his need for control emanating from him.
I don't want to feel like a prisoner in his house.
His hands cup my face, and I know there's no way to avoid his gaze. His eyes are such a light gray. I could lose myself in them. They're the color of a glacier and bring calm to my agitated soul.
"I'm afraid of repeating the same mistakes as in the past. I don't want to feel controlled again, Roman."
His entire body tenses and his hands move away from my face.
I instantly know I messed up. I should have kept my damn mouth shut. Why can't I be sure about him? Why do I have to ruin everything?
He paces in circles, hands on his hips, until he finally stops to look at me. Something in me aches to take back what I said, just to erase that raw look in his eyes.
"You think I would ever do to you what he did?" His tone is fierce.
I shake my head. No. I know he wouldn't do that. But there are other ways to hurt someone. God, I know better than most that mental scars cut deeper than physical ones. Your body heals, scars fade. But the wounds in your mind, your soul - sometimes you don't know how bad they are until they start bleeding again. And Roman... He needs control. Nothing would break me faster than if he started trying to control me, like Aidan did. What if he goes down that same road - getting paranoid, accusing me of things that only exist in his head?
"I can't do another toxic relationship, Roman. I get what you are, what you do. I know there are parts of you I haven't seen yet, but I see them in your eyes. I just need you to understand - I can't survive another relationship where I'm powerless," I answer.
I don't want this relationship to be like a candle that burns fast. I know I'm physically attracted to him and hormones are clouding my judgment.
"You want to know how this relationship will be?" he asks, and I'm relieved his tone is calmer. "I'll always want to know where you are, I'll always want to know who you're with, I'll always want to know that one of my men is always beside you!"
Every word hits like a punch to the chest. I swallow once and let him say what's on his mind.
"I'll always want to be beside you, I'll want you to answer my messages or calls, and clearly I want to be the only man who puts his hands on you, but not for the reasons you're listing in your head right now. Not because I want to keep you in a cage and control you." A laugh escapes him.
I try to understand why his face is so tormented, but before I can ask, he continues.
"But because YOU control ME !" His voice is full of tension.
"Roman." My voice is in complete contrast with his right now.
"No, you don't understand. I want to know where you are so I know how long it would take me to reach you if you needed me. I want to know who you're with so I know who to kill with my bare hands if something happens to you around them. I want you to answer my messages so I don't go crazy wondering if any of my enemies have taken you. I want to be the only man you touch, because the idea that you could look at someone else with that look…, exactly...the look you're giving me now, makes me nauseous and needing to spill blood. This is the relationship you're getting into, Luna!"
And now he's the one who sighs, as if he's taken a weight off his heart. I'm speechless. I don't even know if I'm still breathing from all the tension in my body. I feel that every word he told me is true, and I wait for anxiety to take over. I wait. And keep waiting. But nothing. In my mind there's only peace.
I take a few steps toward him and follow what my instinct tells me. I take his hands and bring them to my lips. I place a kiss on each and wait for him to open his eyes. When my lips touch his skin, I feel a shiver run through his body.
"Okay. I understand," I whisper.
He opens his eyes.
"You understand?"
I see in his eyes that part of him struggling to maintain control, to not let the chaos out. I wish I could take all the worry from his eyes, even for a few moments. It must be exhausting to always maintain this image of being in control and rational.
"I understand, baby."
Every word he spoke tattooed itself on my skin precisely because he lost control in front of me. This man who is always composed, always rational.
"I would never hurt you, Luna."
Clearly we both need to learn how to make this work, but we've taken the first step. At least now he knows my fears and I know his.
I feel his lips' touch my forehead, then my cheek, the corner of my mouth. It's a light touch, not even a kiss, but my whole body develops a slight tremor from the sensation it awakens.
"I would cut off my own hands before hurting you in any way, love."
The words are more of a murmur, but they make me tremble even more in his arms. Something tells me others would say this as an exaggeration, but Roman is serious.
He really would do it.
My hands traverse his abdomen and I feel every fiber in him tensing under my fingertips. It's a feeling of power that this man, who emanates so much strength and authority, has this reaction to being touched by me.
I rise slightly on my tiptoes and press my face to his neck. I smell that cologne with orange notes and press my lips to it. I know how much a person's perfume matters, but I never thought that for me comfort would come in the form of citrus and conifers.
He stands completely still, waiting to see what I'll do next, and somehow his restraint increases my impatience. I feel the vein in his neck and bring my lips to it.
"Luna."
My name is more of a breath. I choose to ignore it and leave kisses all over his neck while my hands familiarize themselves with his skin. I feel something vibrating in his pocket and close my eyes. I know he'll have to take that call, but I wish we had a few more minutes to stay like this.
"I need to answer." His voice is hoarse, and being pressed so tightly against him, I realize he’s having the same thoughts as me.
I take a step back and he takes his phone in hand.
"I need to talk to Anton," he tells me and steps toward me.
His mouth doesn't wait more than a second before crashing into mine. It's not a delicate kiss. It's a promise. He touches my slightly swollen lips with his finger and tells me, "Stay."
I nod and watch him go to the door to take the call. A single word, but its meaning is so complex. To stay in his house. To stay beside him.
To stay in his life.