Chapter 28
ROMAN
Morning comes roughly.
I awaken to two things: gray light bleeding in through the tall windows of my bedroom, and a mild ache at my temples from one too many whiskeys last night. I roll over, draping my arm over the other side of the bed as if Amalie might be there.
She’s not, of course.
I let out a groan as I stretch and plant my feet on the floor, then press the button to open the blinds.
A horrifying thought crosses my mind—I half expect to see CPS agents emerging from the tree line.
Rage boils in me as I think about yesterday, those goddamn agents going through my house, trying to find some pretext to take my son from me.
I stand and close my eyes, tamping down my anger. The agents were just doing their jobs. The real target is the person who pointed them in my direction.
I shower, brush my teeth, and throw back a couple of aspirin with a bit of water in order to quell the headache. Then I dress and begin the day.
The same gray light that filled my bedroom is present throughout the mansion. Another cold late-winter’s day. Something about it manages to turn the house into something more like a fortress rather than a home where a family lives.
The staff moves about quietly. Guards are at their posts. No sign of Amalie or Sasha—they’re most likely having breakfast. A big part of me wants to see her more than anything. But I resist the urge. After what happened yesterday, after our argument, I know it’s not the wise move.
I make my way to the study. Andrei is there, seated in one of the chairs near the fireplace, documents in hand. He glances over his shoulder as I enter.
“Your bank called twice,” he says. “And Mr. Blair.”
My jaw tightens. No doubt with bad news. I find Blair’s number in my phone. I put the call on speaker, then set the phone on a nearby table.
“Mr. Barinov,” he greets. “Good morning.”
“Mr. Blair,” I reply. “Let’s not waste time.”
“Indeed. I’ll be direct. There’s been a development.”
“What sort of development?”
A beat of silence. “The visit to your home by CPS last night was quick news. As such, our compliance team has triggered a pause on the IPO timetable until your home and family situation are verified.”
For a long moment, I stare at the wall. The exact thing I didn’t want to happen has happened. They’re pausing the deal, which means there’s a damn good chance it may not go through.
My voice is even. “CPS found nothing.”
“Right, I understand,” Blair replies. “But optics matter. Risk matters. The perception of instability—”
“Perception,” I repeat, my tone sharp.
“I’m sure you know as well as anyone that perception matters. Enormous amounts of money are at play here, and not a single investor involved in this deal is going to want to put a stake in a risky deal.”
I say nothing, letting his words process.
“Mr. Barinov?”
“Tell me what they need.”
“Total assurance,” he says. “We’ll need written assurance and documentation. And a third-party investment would go a long way.”
Anger and frustration boil up.
“Roman, I want to emphasize that this is temporary. Not a single investor has pulled out yet. If you can calm their fears, you might come out of this looking even better than before.”
“You’ll get your documentation. And you’ll move quickly once you have it.”
He swallows audibly over the phone. “Indeed, Mr. Barinov. I’ll be in touch later today.”
The call ends.
I step over to the fire, watching the flames, my hands folded behind my back. Andrei watches me without saying a word. No doubt he knows what I’m thinking. He can see the violence I’m refusing to unleash. In a different time, heads would roll as I got to the bottom of whoever did this.
But now, I must approach this situation like a businessman.
“They wanted a pause, and they got it.”
“Yes,” Andrei replies.
I take one slow, deep breath. Then another. It doesn’t help.
The IPO was an exit. A clean future built for my son. But all it took was one anonymous phone call to place all of that in jeopardy.
This reeks of Garin. But there is another angle, and it’s one I don’t want to consider.
Amalie and her brother.
She’d sworn up and down that she had nothing to do with her brother’s work. But what if she’s simply a good liar? After all, it would take more than an anonymous phone call to bring CPS to my estate. They would need some sort of probable cause, substantiating details.
And that sort of information could only come from someone intimately aware of my business.
I hear movement near the doorway. I turn. As if she somehow knew I was thinking about her, Amalie appears, coat in hand. Her expression is one of determination, but it’s also taking everything she has to keep it in place.
“I’m leaving,” she firmly states.
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
My mouth goes dry. “No.”
She takes in a quick but deep breath. “Yes.”
Andrei shifts a bit, like he’s preparing himself to move if I give an order. I don’t.
Amalie keeps her eyes on me. She’s not pleading, not asking permission. She’s informing me.
“I can’t stay here after what happened yesterday.”
“I just—” I start, but she holds up her hand to stop me.
“Roman, I need to talk to my brother. I need to find out if he had anything to do with what happened.”
Another layer of tension forms in the air of the study.
“And what if he did?” I ask, my voice low.
She winces, as if pained. “Then I need to fix it.”
“Sasha will be crushed when he finds out you’ve left.”
Those words put the first crack in the shield she’s put up. I hate to play such a card, but it’s true—Sasha will be broken.
“I have to go. It’s for the best—for him.”
My hands curl into fists. Not because she’s wrong, but because she’s leaving. Because everything in me wants to pull her into my arms and make her swear she’s mine and that she’s staying. Because I remember her mouth on mine, the way she tastes, her warmth against my skin.
But I also know forcing her to stay would be the fastest way to make her want to leave for good.
I let my gaze move over her face, her mouth, the dark circles of weariness under her eyes. She’s hurt. She’s tired. I wonder if she slept at all last night.
And it’s all because of me.
I hate myself for it.
Andrei rises from his seat. “You can’t leave without security,” he says. “It’s not safe.”
She lifts her chin defiantly, the determination back in full force. “I’ll be fine.”
Andrei’s gaze flicks to me, silently asking me for permission to insist on it.
I should. I should stop her. I should lock this house down the way I’ve always locked everything down. But if I do that, if I stop her now, I’ll be proving every fear she has about me; that she’s a prisoner, an asset, that she’s trapped here because I say so.
My chest burns with frustration.
“Let her go,” I tell Andrei.
Amalie’s eyes widen just a bit. She didn’t expect such an easy release.
Andrei’s jaw tightens. “Roman—”
“Let her go,” I repeat. “But she leaves with a driver and two men to wherever she wants to be dropped off.” She opens her mouth, likely to argue. I cut her off with a look. “If you want to leave, then so be it. But I will make sure your exit is safe.”
She presses her lips together. She doesn’t fight it. “Okay. Thank you.”
I nod once.
She hesitates at the doorway, a tiny falter in her resolve, as if she wants to say something else or is having second thoughts.
Whatever it is, she pushes it down. Instead she says, “Tell Sasha I love him.”
The word love slips into me like a blade between the ribs. There’s no doubt in my mind she feels that way toward my son. And he feels it for her, too.
She turns and leaves before I can respond. When she’s gone, the room feels emptier than it should, as if she took something else with her beyond just her presence.
Andrei exhales. “You trust her.”
My gaze remains on the doorway, on the place where she stood just a moment ago.
“I really want to.”