Page 25 of Ruthless Reign

“Anyways, I see the Popovs; I must go and say hello. Try not to worry so much,” she advises. “And try not to put on weight in London. You’ll need to be fitted for a wedding dress as soon as you’re home.”

The line goes dead, and the familiar sting of rejection hits harder than expected. This isn't new. It echoes the countless times my parents favored glittering social events over spending time with me. There was the year they missed my lead role in the school play for a ski trip in Switzerland, and the time I rang in my fourteenth birthday with only the housekeeper for company while they mingled at a wedding overseas.

It’s why I’ve embraced my role as Sofiya’s protector so fiercely. Given our parents’ track record, I’m determined to be the one person who always has her back.

I'm so wound up with worry that I storm from the bedroom to the hotel’s terrace. The moment I close the French doors behind me and face the gusty wind, I unleash a deep, soul-cleansing scream, letting all my frustration pour out. My lungs burn with the release.

“Well, that’s not a good sign.”

Startled, I whirl around to find Roman leaning against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers and smoke curling from his lips. The moonlight casts shadows across his features, accentuating his surprised expression.

“I, uh, just needed to let off some steam.”

“Apparently.” He holds out the cigarette for me to take a drag. “Seems you need it more than me.”

I hesitate for a moment, but the raw edge of my nerves wins out. Stepping closer, I take the cigarette from him. The smoke is harsh against my lungs, a sharp contrast to the cool night air, but it grounds me. I exhale slowly, watching the smoke disperse into the darkness, and hand the cigarette back to him.

He takes a slow drag then looks at me, his gaze softer now. “Want to talk about it?" His question feels oddly intimate in the silence that stretches between us.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start," I admit.

“Start with why you felt the need to scream like a banshee into the night.”

I sigh and lean forward, resting my arms on the balcony railing. Normally, I guard my secrets fiercely, but tonight, I don’t have it in me to hold everything back. Not after what he just witnessed.

“I haven’t heard from my sister all day. Anatoly was supposed to drive her back to school, but it’s late now and still no word.”

His eyebrows pull together in concern. “So, it’s unlike your sister to not call you back?"

"Definitely." A fresh wave of worry crashes over me.

“Have you called Anatoly?”

“Yes. He didn’t answer. I left a message but haven’t heard from him either.”

He stubs out the cigarette in an ashtray and fishes his phone from his pocket. “She goes to the same boarding school you and Kira went to, right? I’ll look into it.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t mean you have to get involved.”

He lays a hand on my back, the warmth of his touch immediately comforting. “It doesn’t matter. I can help. Let me take care of this for you.” Before I can argue, he brushes a hand down my cheek, his eyes gentle. “You don’t have to shoulder everything alone, milaya.”

Sweetheart.

My breath trips. Roman, with his criminal ties and tough exterior, is not a man I’d expect kindness from, and yet that’s exactly what he’s showing me.

I nod, feeling a tightness in my throat because I’m unused to accepting people’s help. But this is bigger than me; this is about Sofiya’s safety.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“I’ll be right back.” He slides open the door and heads inside the penthouse, phone to his ear.

I turn around to look out over the city, alone with my thoughts and the boulder in my chest. I hate to drag anyone else into the disaster of my life, but I can’t deny that it feels good to let someone else help me.

When the phone in my hand rings, I’m caught by surprise.

“Oh my God, Sofiya,” I blurt out when I see who’s calling. My voice is thick with emotion. “Are you okay?”

The relief from hearing her voice is short-lived. "I'm fine, don't worry. My phone died, and Anatoly took me out for dinner with some of his associates before dropping me off at school.”

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