“Can I ask you something? You know, before I head out.”
“Sure. And take your time. Roman won’t be up for a little while.”
I took a bite of melon. Fresh and delicious. I sipped more coffee. “I’m having a hard time understanding who exactly Roman is.”
Roza laughed. “That’s understandable. What did he tell you?”
“When I asked him, he said he’s nobody.”
“Of course he did. He loves that.” She scrunched up her nose like she smelled something off. “It’s his favorite line, you know.”
I looked down at my food, unable to meet her eye. “He also said he’s scarier than a bunch of mobsters.”
“Did he now?” She said that softer, a hint of surprise creeping into her tone. “He doesn’t normally brag. Maybe he really does like you.”
I chewed on my thumbnail, then shook my head. “No, I think he was trying to make me feel safe. He wasn’t bragging.”
“Maybe, maybe not. What do you want to know about him? I’m not sure how much I should tell you since it’s not my business, but I’ll do my best.”
“I guess I’m just wondering, what the hell does he do for a living?”
She laughed, grinning wide. “Good question. Definitely the wrong question, but a good one.”
“What do you mean?”
She waved that away. “Do you know what an oligarchy is?”
The word sounded familiar. Deep, dark, horror-movie-esque memories surfaced of middle school history class. “Some kind of government.”
“Exactly. It’s a government run by a small group of powerful families.” She leaned toward me, raising her eyebrows, and tapped one exquisitely manicured nail on the table. “Roman is an oligarch.”
“He runs… a government?” I made a face. That didn’t seem right at all. “I don’t understand.”
“His family used to, anyway. Back before they left the old country and came here, they were some of the most powerful people in the world.”
“So he’s like old money?”
“Exactly! You’re quick. So you asked me, what does he do for a living? Now you know. He does whatever he wants.”
I let that sink in. The man I’d seen the night before was a towering force, the sort of person that commanded a room simply by entering it. He sent a shiver down my spine just from thinking about him, and the memory of his hand on my thigh lingered like a hot brand seared into my flesh.
It was almost enough to wipe away the memory of Dia getting her head blown to pieces.
I ate more fruit in silence. Roza watched me carefully, like she was studying me for something. I drank down my coffee and took several deep breaths to try and keep myself under control.
“He said he’s not a gangster last night. Is that true?”
Roza nodded. “That’s true. Sort of.”
“Sort of isn’t very helpful.”
“I know. Sorry about that. He’s not a member of any organized groups, but he’s very much involved with all of them. You could say that Roman and men like him are the power behind the power.”
“Okay, right, so he’s not a gangster, but he sort of is a gangster.”
“Hey, now you get it!”
“Which means he’s protecting me from actual gangsters.”
“That’s about right, yes.”
I met her gaze and chewed on my lip, stomach churning in anxious circles. “Is he dangerous? Am I in a lot of trouble here?”
Roza leaned toward me, her smile becoming somehow conspiratorial. “He’s very dangerous, but you’d be surprised at how fair he can be.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Roza.”
I grimaced, startled, and leaned back in my chair. Roza looked pleased as she glanced at her watch. “You’re two minutes late. I wanted you to walk in right after I told her that you’re the power behind the power.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
I stared at Roman, my heart racing.
He wore a pair of light gray gym shorts that fell about mid-thigh.
And nothing else.
His chest was muscular and toned like he worked out for hours every day. His hair was still damp from a shower and pushed back lazily, like he hadn’t bothered styling it at all. He tilted his head and pursed his lips, looking back at me with that same intense expression from last night, and I felt the room shift sideways. His body took over my brain space, and I couldn’t stop eyeing his toned chest and stomach even though I knew I wasn’t being subtle.
There was something about him. Terrifying, but alluring. Roza had said he was dangerous, and I believed her.
I should walk out of this house, get on my bike, and never look back.
Except I couldn’t bring myself to stand up. My knees were weak. My hands were shaking. It wasn’t a panic attack—
It was something worse. Like the moment right after waking up from a wet dream.
Buzzing, tingling, excited.
A wild, broken, shattered feeling in my chest.
I wanted to run my fingers down his skin, along his cut abdomen, down toward the incredibly delicious V that disappeared beneath those light cotton shorts.