“Your morning breath doesn’t exactly smell like roses, either,” Luke grumbled, though Roman’s morning breath was fine.
“Evil men get leeway,” Roman said, his face dead serious. “It’s in the ‘How to Be Evil For Dummies.’ Latest edition.”
Luke couldn’t stop a giggle.
Roman stared at him with a strange expression. “You have thirty seconds to brush your teeth, Curly. Then you’re going to return here, suck on my tongue, and sit on my dick.”
It was rather embarrassing how fast Luke rolled out of the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom.
At least, Luke consoled himself later, he had enough willpower to insist on a condom.
It was a small comfort.
Chapter 13
“Remind Sergei to seal the deal with Gazprom as soon as possible,” Roman said, without looking up from his computer. “I expect a detailed report by the end of the month. Any news from Anna?”
Vlad hesitated, wondering if he should tell Roman how surprised Anna was by his absence from the negotiations. Normally, Roman was something of a control freak.
But then again, nothing was fucking normal around here these days.
“She’s doing everything she can,” Vlad replied, deciding against it. Roman’s moods could be unpredictable. “She says the negotiations are going reasonably well.”
Roman hummed. “Anything else?”
“We’ve had a few inquiries from the British Secret Intelligence Service.”
Roman lifted his gaze. “Again?”
Vlad nodded, frowning. “They don’t seem suspicious—they have nothing on us—but they’re requesting a meeting with you. By all accounts, you were the last person Luke Whitford met before his disappearance a month ago.”
“I have already told everything I know to the Russian police,” Roman said, leveling him with a flat look. “The SIS can ask them. Why are you bothering me with this?”
Vlad pursed his lips. “Don’t you think you should agree to meet them? To dispel any suspicion?”
“I’m the CEO of multiple corporations all over the world,” Roman said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My schedule is booked months in advance. It would be far too suspicious if I agreed to an unofficial request, considering that I supposedly barely know the missing person and spent a total of five minutes in his company. I have a bullet-proof alibi.”
“Yes, but…Maybe Whitford has told them about the bad blood between you two,” Vlad said. “If he has, they’ll know you have a motive.”
“Richard Whitford will lose far more than me if he talks,” Roman said before returning his gaze to the computer. “You may go.”
When Vlad didn’t move, Roman looked up again. “Anything else?”
Vlad bit the inside of his cheek.
“I don’t have all day, Vlad,” Roman said.
“It’s been over a month since we got the boy,” Vlad said, haltingly. “And you haven’t used him yet.”
Roman bored his pale eyes into him.
Vlad swallowed, reminding himself that he was the closest thing Roman had to a friend after Misha’s death.
“Are you asking me to explain myself to you?” Roman said at last, his voice low and seemingly casual.
Vlad knew better.
“Not at all,” he said quickly. “It’s just…I’m worried. The longer we keep him here, the bigger the security risk. At least let me ship him off to a more distant, secure location—maybe the safe house near Omsk or—”
“No.”
Vlad waited, but when no further explanation was provided, he gritted his teeth. It wasn’t as though he thought he was entitled to know all of Roman’s plans, but this issue was actually his job. He was supposed to be informed of any potential security risks, and the boy currently locked up in Roman’s rooms was going to be a bigger security risk the longer he stayed in the house just outside Saint Petersburg. While Vlad was confident in his men’s loyalty, he didn’t delude himself into thinking that leaks were impossible.
“But,” he tried again. “The boy—”
Roman stared him down. “The boy is none of your concern. Dismissed.”
Nodding tightly, Vlad left the room.
Once he was back in the control center, he sat in his chair and looked blankly at the security feeds.
After a moment, he keyed a passcode into the datapad and brought up the security feed for Whitford boy’s room.
The kid was sprawled on the bed, reading a book. Vlad frowned; he didn’t think there had been books in that room.
He stared at the screen some more, disconcerted by how comfortable the boy looked for someone who was a captive.
Vlad was about to close the security feed when the boy suddenly looked up from his book, toward the door.
Roman entered the room and said something. There was no audio, so Vlad could only guess what was being said. Luke responded and, pursing his lips, returned his eyes to the book. Discarding his jacket, Roman walked to the bed and tipped the boy’s head up. Whitford’s brat glared at him, lips folding into a pout.
Vlad’s jaw dropped when the boy practically jumped on Roman and kissed him, legs wrapping around Roman’s waist.