Chapter 19 Roman
ROMAN
As I finished talking with Lorne and the guards who’d assisted him tonight, I got a text from my uncle.
Mikhail: Meeting in the study.
He was only giving me a few minutes to get there. It had to be something important for that kind of urgency, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know what else was going down. My mind was full of worries about Amber, and my heart was conflicted with wishing she weren’t such an enigma.
“We are looking into it,” Lorne said as I stood.
I nodded, trusting him fully.
“Maybe you could, uh, offer her some comfort or companionship in the meantime. I didn’t like how scared she looked,” he added.
“I know.” I felt torn with the need to go home to her and check on her with the twins. Mikhail waited for no one, though, and duty called. “I’ve got to go talk to my uncle first.” I held up my phone. “He just requested it.”
He shrugged. “Probably about this incident. The big boss’ll always know when backup is called.”
That was true. We ran a tight ship. The Orlov empire was vast, but here among us at the top of the leadership, we made every effort to stay up-to-date about what was happening with each other.
“Want me to stop in and see how she’s doing?” Lorne offered.
I shook my head, going toward the door. “No. Anya’s already there, so she’s not alone.”
I left and went through the interconnected tunnelways to get to my uncle's building. It was getting late, but not so late that I’d be waking up anyone in his residence.
I found him in the study. Andre was also seated there, rubbing his jaw and looking like he hadn’t slept for a year.
“I don’t know how the fuck you managed that first week with two of them,” he muttered upon my arrival.
“Long nights with Esme?” I guessed.
“Half the time, I swear she’s just crying because she’s tired,” he groused.
I took a seat and pointed at him. “Actually, that is one of the reasons they cry. According to Amber, at least.”
Andre groaned. “Then why doesn’t she just go to sleep?”
I smiled, taking pity on him. “Sorry to hear it’s rough. It’ll get better. Until it gets worse with that cluster feeding growth spurt time.” I furrowed my brow and glanced at my uncle seated behind his desk. “And why am I here talking about this right now?”
Uncle Mikhail rolled his eyes. “That’s not why I asked you to meet.”
“Then what is?”
He spun a paper around and slid it over his desk. “This is.”
I took the printout and scowled. “What the hell is this?” I asked, peering at Amber’s face.
The black-and-white image of Amber resembled any other driver’s license photo.
But a different surname was used. As I studied it closer, I realized this photo was taken a while ago, because her red hair was much longer.
“What’s this?”
I set it down on the desk as my pulse kicked faster. A sixth sense, something like a physical oh… fuck… ran through me, shooting a jolt of alarm up my spine.
“That’s Amber’s real identity,” Andre said. He lost the seriousness of his tone when his mouth cracked open in a wide yawn. “I found it when I looked her up again.”
I volleyed my gaze between my uncle and cousin. “What the fuck?”
Mikhail held up his hand as I wanted to explode.
I knew he had every right to investigate anyone he wanted. He was the boss. He was my leader, my uncle, my mentor. As the Pakhan of the Bratva, if he had a suspicion, he’d see to it that a thorough investigation would be held. That was how he kept the Family safe and prosperous.
But he could’ve fucking told me. He could’ve given me a head’s up. Something.
Why would he have?
I’d given him, all of them, the impression that she was my nanny I was scratching an itch with. Nothing past that. But that was a lie. I felt like I had to be defensive on her behalf now.
“I didn’t care for that break-in at your building,” my uncle said. “It was too calculated with that storm and the power going out. If it was something to do with Niko Popov, I wanna fucking know and remind him, again, what happens when someone fucks with us.”
I opened and closed my mouth. I had nothing to argue about there. I appreciated that he was that protective.
“And I was also suspicious about how she came here through an agency.” He slid a look to his son. “Like Sofia had.”
Andre shrugged. “But it’s not the same situation.”
“Are you trying to say that Amber’s here to spy on us?
” I scoffed. Had they not met her? She was timid.
Quiet. Shy. She didn’t even have a phone!
The dinky little flip phone she had looked so cheap that I’d purchased her a brand-new smartphone to use so I’d always count on having access to her when she was with my children.
Andre sat up, probably just to stay awake. “I didn’t think she was sent here.”
“But I needed to rule that out,” Mikhail said.
“So,” Andre said, “I asked Oleg to arrange for a hacker to look into the agency Amber went through. She wasn’t sent here like Sofia was.”
No shit. I crossed my arms.
“And that was different, anyway. Roberto Giovanni just bribed and paid off that other maid service to squeeze Sofia in with an alias. Obviously, as we all now know, to spy on me. Which she conveniently sucked at and failed to do.” He cleared his throat.
“When we looked into the agency that connected us with Amber to be your nanny, she used this identity.”
Mikhail had a print-out of the name and look that I was familiar with. Slightly shorter hair and the Desmond last name that I knew of.
“She bought a fake ID,” Andre explained. “That’s what the nanny agency had on hand. But when we ran her through facial recognition programs, this one showed up too.” He pointed at the other one.
I sat there and looked at the two printouts, trying to process that she’d lied. To me. To us. To the agency. A burning rage to know why pricked at my mind, but I felt like I was drowning under the confusion and betrayal.
“I’ve been looking into her ‘real’ identity, though,” Andre said, "and it’s not linking to anything threatening as far as I can tell.”
“Which means it might be another fake identity,” Uncle Mikhail said.
I scowled at him. “Sure. Because she’s what, a secret agent for the fucking CIA?” I huffed.
“She’s got some kind of a past,” Andre said. “One potentially with secrets she might want to keep hidden.”
I tossed the papers back to my uncle’s desk and rubbed my forehead. “No shit. I’ve talked about this already with Sergei. She’s too nervous. Too skittish. When she first came to work for me, she showed signs of trauma. Flinching. Not making eye contact. Slow to want to be near me.”
Andre and Mikhail faced each other. My cousin nodded. “See?” He turned to me. “My opinion is that she was hurt. That she has felt scared and is nervous to be hurt again.”
Uncle Mikhail nodded. “That was what Claire thought too. And if that’s the case, fine. But depending on where she actually came from… that shit matters.”
I understood that.
“I still think we’d be wasting our time treating her like she came from one of our known enemies,” Andre said.
“Says the dumbass who didn’t realize Roberto Giovanni’s niece had snuck her way into your life and bed at first,” he deadpanned.
“Yeah,” Andre said, irked. “I don’t think Amber’s sent here as a spy or anything bad. She’s too clueless.”
“She is not,” I argued.
He made a face. “No. Not like that. She’s not stupid. But you can’t deny she’s clueless about”—he waved his hand at the room—“this. Us. She doesn’t seem to pick up on the fact that she’s a nanny for a negotiator in the Mafia.”
“Because I’ve asked everyone not to say anything. To let her stay in the dark about the details,” I said. “Because of how nervous she seemed at first.”
“No, it’s more than that.” Andre shook his head.
“She’s been here and seen us all. She’s seen the guards, and still she’s not asking if we’re a crime family?
” He smirked. “When she was over for lunch the other day and Oleg made the mistake of mentioning how a rat was handled over in the ninth district, she thought he meant a rat.” He raised his brows.
“Like the animal. The vermin. She piped in saying she’d never forget the time she first saw a real live rat in the subway station and how slimy its fur looked. ”
My lips twitched to the side as I fought a smile.
“I agree, she does seem… out of touch about it,” Mikhail said. “Anya cracked some wiseass joke with George the other day. From The Godfather.” He rolled his eyes. “It went totally over her head and she admitted to never even seeing it.”
“And when one of the guards said someone needed a hit on them,” Andre said, “she thought they were talking about an HIIT workout.”
“See!” I held my hands out. “Amber is not a spy. Or a mole. Or rat. Or decoy.”
“Could she be a distraction?” Uncle Mikhail asked me seriously.
That shut me up.
“Could someone have sent her to nanny for you with the plan to keep you tied up with her and distracted to lower your attention on something else?” he asked.
“Like, maybe these boundary negotiations Ivan Popov is pestering you about?” Andre guessed.
I stood, hating how they were ganging up on her. Or not. “No. I’m not distracted by her.”
It tasted like a lie, but it couldn’t be. “This is me you’re talking about. I’ve never wanted to and never will intend to let a woman control my freedom, all right? I’m not committing to her like that. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s not my fiancée. She’s not my wife, dammit.”
Instead, she was my friend. My lover. My partner and companion and sidekick and mastermind of getting my twins to chill and sleep much better than I could.
“She’s my nanny,” I emphasized. “Yes, I’ve been sleeping with her. It’s a mutual, no-strings thing that isn’t distracting me from doing my job.”
Liar. I caught myself before I cringed at those words leaving my lips. Amber filled a hole I hadn’t realized I had in my heart. But I couldn’t admit that when they were giving her the third degree like this.
“Look into her, all right?” I shrugged. “She must have some kind of a past. Who doesn’t?
But I am telling you that this woman is not out to get anyone.
Out to get us. I’d never let her near my son or daughter if I suspected she could be a threat.
” I scoffed, going to the door. “You want to worry about me being distracted, and that someone could use that against us? Then look at them. Emily and Henry have thrown me way more off balance than being able to scratch an itch with the hired help.”
I left it at that, wishing I’d given them a better last word. That without Amber helping me, I’d be doubly distracted in trying to manage my twins on my own or with a subpar nanny.
Without stopping once, I hurried back to my building. Amber looked like she was coming out of the nursery just as I entered.
“They just fell asleep,” she said as she closed the door. The monitor was in her hand.
“Good. Sit.” I pointed at the couch. Realizing how much of an ass I sounded like and how she’d been scared today, I groaned. Instead, I crossed the room to her and scooped her in my arms. I sat and kept her on my lap.
“What’s… what’s going on?” she asked.
There it was again. That vulnerable, doe-eyed look in her eyes. It haunted me, and I hated that I had to question her at all.
“My uncle found a copy of your driver’s license with a different name.”
She winced slightly.
“What’s that about?” I asked. Blunt and to the point.
“I changed my name before,” she said as she lowered her gaze.
“No shit, Amber,” I replied dryly as I tipped her chin back up. “Why?”
“I wanted a new start on my life after some stuff I dealt with as a teenager.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Before or after your parents passed away?”
“After,” she said quickly.
I’ll tell Andre to look up her parents, too. A fully invasive dig.
“If it was an important detail, I would’ve told you,” she said quickly. “No one asked. I mean, no one asked about anything like that when I applied at that agency. No one’s asked me here. And I didn’t realize I needed to provide info about things from so long ago.”
Watching her ramble, I tried not to think she was panicking to cover her bases, hedging my questions.
Damn you.
My uncle and cousin were putting more doubts in my head about her, making me overanalyze everything she said.
Behind the fear, though, I sensed a fighting spirit with her tone. As if she was determined to make things right somehow and not be wrong or bad.
I heaved out a deep sigh.
“What is it, Roman? What’s wrong?” she asked, all the concern and tenderness in her voice threatening to soften me.
I don’t know.
My uncle and cousin were looking into her, but I couldn’t reveal that now. She had a mystery around her, but I wanted to cling to the possibility that it could be nothing. Nothing dangerous to us.
I was exhausted of it, though. Wondering if she was a spy or problematic insert in my home was not what I had on my bingo card for today.
I didn’t need any more responsibilities or burdens or worries.
I had Ivan Popov whining for a meeting about something we’d never bend on.
I had twins who were growing as fast as weeds and needing my guidance and love. I had this woman, who was…
Fuck.
I was getting sick of lying about it.
Amber wasn’t a burden. She was the woman I wanted to love, if I could let my heart thaw out enough to embrace that concept for the first time in my life.
“Nothing,” I told her as I cupped her face and brought her closer for a kiss. “There’s nothing you need to worry about.”
She kissed me back, but when she peered at me, I felt the weight of her worries and nervousness.
“Come on. It’s been a long day. We should go to bed and try to sleep before the twins wake us up in the middle of the night.”
“Are you sure?” She hesitated. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
I kissed her forehead again. “There’s nothing you need to worry about,” I repeated.
As I picked her up to carry her to my room, I left out what seemed to be implied as the other, unspoken half.
There’s nothing you need to worry about—right now.
Depending on whatever secrets she wanted to try to hide from me and my family… time would tell who would need to worry about what.