Page 62 of For a Price

I’m escorted from the table on the rooftop back inside. Though we move in silence, I can’t help noticing how calm the mood is between us. The moment feels natural in the strangest way, like we’re a real couple enjoying an evening under the stars.I glance up at Roman to find him closely at my side, his presence eclipsing mine.

Whereas I used to find him suffocating and intolerable, I’m feeling different tonight. I’m riddled with even more guilt realizing how he’s done nothing but treat me well and I’ve gone behind his back.

…don’t do it, Kat. Just forget about it. Move on.

I nibble on my bottom lip listening to the two halves of myself war with each other.

But shouldn’t I be honest? It’ll help get rid of this guilt.

The other half offers the most obvious fact of all.

You’re a criminal. Criminals don’t do guilt.

“You’re distracted,” Roman says suddenly. We’ve entered his bedroom and he’s closed the door. The snick of it closing makes me jump as I come back down to earth.

“Hmmm? What?”

“Distracted. You. I know my kitty cat. Something is on your mind. If it’s about what I said concerning the schism?—”

“It’s not about that,” I blurt out, fidgeting. “It’s, um, it’s… something else.”

DON’T! DON’T TELL HIM!

Roman raises a thick brow and regards me in silence, only a few inches separating us. “What is it? Tell me.”

“I… I… you have to promise not to get mad.”

“Katerina…”

“Okay, okay… no need to use my government name.” I sigh, braving a look up at him as if I expect I’ll turn to stone if I make direct eye contact. “While you were… um, while you went inside, I… I looked at your phone. As in hacked into your phone. As in glanced at your text messages. B-but that’s all! I put it right down after that. And I didn’t see anything incriminating—it was all in Russian and I don’t know a word of Russian. But I’m sorry anyway. I never should’ve touched it. Please don’t be mad.I wanted to tell you myself, because even just a few minutes in, I can’t take the guilt!”

My long ramble comes to an end with my shoulders slumping as if I’ve lost the air in my lungs.

Roman has offered no reaction to anything I’ve said. He’s merely remained stoic and unreadable, his thick arms folded over his broad chest.

When several more seconds go by and I’m left to agonize in silence, I beg for a reaction.

“I’m serious. I’m sorry,” I croak. “I’ll never look at your phone again. It wasn’t my place and I betrayed your trust and I know how important trust is in the bratva?—”

“I believe you, kitty cat.”

“You… you do?”

“Da,” he answers. “You are dripping with guilt. You look like a kitten who has been kicked.”

“I’m… I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“The truth is, devochka, I already knew. I knew you had hacked into my phone.”

My heart practically explodes in my chest. I clap a hand to my mouth, eyes rounding. “You knew?!”

“What have I told you about your time with me? Nothing truly goes unseen. There are eyes and earseverywhere. Did you think the rooftop was not being monitored while I was gone?” he asks.

I’m not sure why I didn’t consider that possibility, other than the obvious fact that I wasn’t thinking at all. I was caught up in trying to get one over on Roman for once.

“Oh…” I swallow down my shock. “Err… well, um… I’m still sorry.”

“Yes, I believe you,” he repeats. “You are sorry.”

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