Chapter 34 Roman
ROMAN
Istand at my bedroom window watching dawn break over the estate grounds, my chest tight with an unfamiliar sensation that takes me a moment to identify.
Guilt. The emotion sits heavy and uncomfortable, foreign after decades of making ruthless decisions without hesitation.
But Eva's devastated expression from last night haunts me, replaying behind my eyes every time I blink.
The way her brown eyes filled with betrayal when my security team escorted Megan and Alexei to their rooms, doors locked from the outside.
I'm hurting her. Every decision I make to protect her drives another wedge between us, and I don't know how to stop it. Don't know how to be anything other than what I am.
But I can't release Tyler, Megan, or Alexei.
Not yet. They know too much, have seen too much.
Tyler's amateur investigation uncovered connections to my operations that should have been invisible.
Megan witnessed the security response, the way my men move like soldiers rather than corporate guards.
And Alexei, my wife's brilliant sixteen-year-old brother, is smart enough to piece together what kind of man his sister is going to marry.
One phone call to the authorities could destroy everything I've built, could expose my organization to federal investigation, and could get people killed.
Every option feels like choosing between Eva's trust and everyone's survival.
I drain my vodka, the burn doing nothing to ease the tension coiling in my chest. The city is waking up beyond the estate walls, normal people starting normal days with normal problems. I envy them sometimes, the simplicity of their concerns.
Footsteps in the hallway make me turn. Eva appears in my doorway, still wearing the clothes from last night, her blonde hair loose and tangled around her shoulders.
She looks like she hasn't slept, dark circles shadowing those brown eyes that usually captivate me.
Even exhausted and furious, she's beautiful in a way that makes my hands itch to touch her, to pull her against me and make her forget why she's angry.
But the fury blazing in her expression tells me that would be a big mistake.
"We need to talk." Her voice is steady, controlled, but I hear the rage simmering beneath it.
I gesture toward the sitting area, but she shakes her head sharply. "Downstairs. I'm not having this conversation in your bedroom."
Our bedroom, I want to correct. But I recognize this isn't the moment to press that point.
We descend to the dining room where breakfast has been laid out by my staff.
Eva ignores the food, standing across the table from me with her arms crossed, her spine rigid with stubborn pride.
The morning light catches the curve of her breasts beneath her rumpled blouse, and despite everything, my cock stirs with interest. I force my gaze back to her face.
"Release them." Her words are clipped, precise. "Megan, Alexei, Tyler. Let them go."
"I can't." I keep my voice low, controlled. "Not yet."
"Can't?" Her laugh is bitter, almost hysterical. "Or won't? Because from where I'm standing, you're choosing to imprison innocent people. My best friend. My brother. A boy whose only crime was loving me."
The accusation stings more than it should. "They know too much, Eva."
"So… what?" Eva's voice rises, her composure cracking. "You're going to keep them locked up forever? Make them disappear? Kill them to protect your precious empire?"
The words hit like bullets. "I would never—"
"Wouldn't you?" She leans forward, her hands flat on the table, and I can't help noticing how the position emphasizes her cleavage, the way her blouse gapes slightly.
Fuck, even furious with me, she makes my blood heat.
"You're a monster, Roman. Lev was right.
You destroy innocent things. You're proving it right now. "
The accusation cuts deeper than any blade. I move around the table with deliberate slowness, watching her pulse flutter at her throat despite her anger. "I'm trying to protect you. To protect them. If they go to the authorities—"
"They won't." Eva straightens, meeting my approach without retreating. "Megan would never betray me. Alexei loves me. And Tyler…" She pauses, her voice softening slightly. "Tyler just wants me to be safe. None of them would destroy my life by exposing you."
"You can't know that." I stop close enough to smell her perfume, that light floral scent that's become as familiar as breathing. "Fear makes people unpredictable. Desperation makes them dangerous."
"Like you're being dangerous right now?" Her brown eyes bore into mine. "Keeping innocent people prisoner because you're afraid? That's not strength, Roman. That's paranoia."
The words sting because they're partially true. I've survived this long by trusting no one, by eliminating threats before they can materialize. But Eva's right that I'm letting fear drive my decisions, and fear makes you sloppy.
But then, caution keeps you alive.
I study her face, seeing the exhaustion beneath her anger, the way her hands tremble slightly despite her fierce composure. An idea forms, a compromise that might ease her fury without completely compromising security.
"Come with me." I turn toward the basement stairs.
Eva's eyes widen. "Where?"
"To see Tyler. You can verify for yourself that he's not being tortured."
Her suspicion is palpable, but she follows me down the stairs, through the wine cellar, past the false wall that opens to the soundproofed room beyond.
Her tension increases with each step, her breathing shallow and rapid.
I'm acutely aware of her body behind me, the way her hips sway as she walks, the curve of her ass.
Even now, even with everything wrong between us, I want her with a hunger that borders on obsession.
The basement room is exactly as I ordered it, comfortable but secure.
A proper bed with clean linens, a television mounted on the wall, and shelves holding books and magazines.
A private bathroom with a shower. Tyler Chen sits on the bed, his wire-rimmed glasses intact, looking more bored than terrified as he flips through a paperback.
He looks up when we enter, and his expression shifts immediately to desperate hope. "Eva! Thank God. Please, you have to make him let me go. I haven't done anything wrong. I was just trying to protect you—"
Eva's gasp cuts him off. She's staring at his face, and I see what she's seeing—the fading bruises around his jaw and temple, yellowing marks from Lev's initial "persuasion" during the interrogation.
She rounds on me, her voice shaking with rage. "You hurt him. You said he wasn't being tortured, but you hurt him."
"Initial interrogation was necessary." I keep my tone matter-of-fact, refusing to apologize for doing what needed to be done. "We had to be certain he wasn't working for Abram Yakovlev, that he hadn't been sent to infiltrate my organization through you."
"He's a graduate student!" Eva's voice cracks. "He was trying to protect me because he cares for me, not because he's some kind of spy!"
Tyler's voice breaks through, desperate and pleading. "Eva, please. I just want to go home. I won't tell anyone anything, I swear. I'll delete everything I found, forget I ever looked into Sokolov's business. Just please, make him let me go."
Eva turns back to me, and the pain in her expression nearly breaks something in my chest. "This is who you are.
This is what you do. You hurt people who care about me, who want to protect me, because you're so paranoid about your empire that you can't see the difference between enemies and innocent people caught in your world. "
The accusation hangs between us, heavy and suffocating.
I want to argue, to explain that in my world there is no difference, that innocent people become casualties all the time.
But looking at Eva's devastated face, at Tyler's terrified expression, I realize she's right.
I'm letting my paranoia destroy the one thing I actually care about.
I make my decision with the same cold pragmatism I apply to business. "Tyler will be moved upstairs. Second floor, proper guest room. Guards posted outside, but he'll have the same accommodations as Megan and Alexei. Comfortable. Well-treated. Just… confined."
Eva's eyes widen with surprise. "You're serious?"
"Confined but comfortable," I repeat, my voice hard. "Until I'm certain the threat from Yakovlev has passed, until I know my organization is secure. Then we'll discuss release."
It's not freedom, but it's better than the basement. Tyler's relief is palpable, his shoulders sagging. Eva's expression softens slightly, though fury still simmers beneath the surface.
"Thank you," she says quietly, and the words feel like a small victory.
We're climbing the basement stairs when my phone rings. Katya's number lights up the screen, and my chest tightens with immediate concern. She never calls this early unless something's wrong.
"Sestrichka," I answer, switching to Russian. "Is everything okay?"
"Roman!" Her voice is warm, bright with happiness. "I wanted to thank you for the beautiful gift. The antique music box that plays Tchaikovsky. It's exquisite. Where did you find it?"
My blood turns to ice. "What music box?"
"The one that arrived yesterday." Confusion threads through her words now. "It was postmarked from America, but there was no name attached. I assumed it was from you."
The world tilts sideways. I didn't send any gift. Which means someone else did. Someone who knows about Katya, knows where she lives, and is sending her presents to prove they can reach her anytime they want.
Fear grips my heart with crushing force, not for myself but for the one person in this world I love without complication, without darkness. My sister. My solnyshko. The last piece of innocence I have left.
"Katya, listen to me very carefully." My voice comes out harder than I intend, and beside me, Eva stiffens with alarm. "Pack a bag. Essential items only. My security team will be there within the hour. You're coming to America. Today."
"What? Roman, I can't just leave—"
"You can and you will." I'm already texting Lev with my free hand, issuing orders.
The silence on the other end stretches too long. When Katya speaks again, her voice is small, frightened. "Okay. I'll pack."
I end the call and immediately dial Lev, my mind racing through possibilities, through enemies who might have discovered my greatest weakness. Eva's hand touches my arm, her anger forgotten in the face of my obvious fear.
"What's wrong?" she asks quietly.
I meet her brown eyes, seeing genuine concern there despite everything between us. "Someone knows about Katya. Someone's been sending her gifts. They're coming for her to destroy me."