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Fingering the ring on the necklace around my neck, I eased out of the bedroom and down the stairs, holding my breath not to run into Roman or Ilsa at this point. Neither would likely appreciate me sneaking around their house after they had taken me in, but as much as I felt guilty about doing so, in my heart I knew that it was going to be the only way I saw my husband again.

I needed Gavril, just like Ilsa needed Roman.

I found a study that smelled like Roman’s cologne, and my heart twisted as it looked eerily familiar to Gavril’s. The moonlight streaming through the French doors gave me enough light to start rummaging through the drawers, attempting to find anything that would give me a way to contact my husband.

After a few minutes, I came across a slim black book, surprised when I opened it up to find numerous well-known Mafia and crime bosses around LA.

I had just found the ultimate little black book!

Excited, I thumbed through it, passing over the crossed-out names until I came across a familiar one, complete with a cell phone number underneath it. They might be enemies, but for some reason, Roman had Gavril’s personal cell phone number.

Interesting. Did Gavril have the same? Why would they need this type of information if they were so against each other? Roman’s words came back to haunt me about getting involved with the war. Was this how it happened? Did they make phone calls to throw their support behind one another?

Either way, this black book was a gold mine for anyone in law enforcement. Of course, I planned on returning it to where I had found it once I made my call, but I was just surprised that Roman would use an archaic method to keep this sort of information that was highly valuable.

Shaking my head, I had another issue.

I had to find a phone.

A few minutes of looking around the study gave me what I was looking for, an old-fashioned house phone was sitting on a table behind the sofa. Idly I wondered if it was a secure line but decided I didn’t care. I had Gavril’s number and likely not much time to contact him before Roman would find out. Whatever punishment he doled out in the end was going to be worth it if I could get back to my husband, and I knew that Roman wasn’t going to just let me off without any punishment. He had explicitly told me he wouldn’t contact Gavril.

Not that he couldn’t contact Gavril. Well, I wasn’t Roman. I had far more on the line than he could ever realize, and I was willing to take that chance.

Tears pricked my eyes as I picked up the phone, nearly crying out as the dial tone blared in my ear. It still worked.

I was so close.

Punching in the numbers, I heard the first ring on the other end. Gavril would have to answer, or I would be back to square one.


Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance