Page 61 of For a Price

My heart races inside my chest watching the passcode screen clear out for his home screen. I glance up for what feels like the hundredth time in a minute, double checking yet again that no one else is around.

I’m not sure what’s making me do it. What’s made me hack into Roman’s phone other than the fact that I can.

That I’m a thief and doing bad things is like the air that I breathe.

He might think I’m some pet to be played with, but I’m no harmless kitty cat. I survived on the streets all of my life. I can outsmart the best of them when the opportunity presents itself.

I bring up Roman’s texts, scrolling through the list in search of what I don’t know. Some info I could potentially use to my advantage.

Guilt saws away at me as I scroll by Russian text after Russian text, feeling worse as I go. Roman trusted me alone onthe rooftop with his phone and what’s the first thing I do the moment he’s gone?

I betray him by hacking into his phone.

The thought to call Rosita occurs to me—and demand that she get help—but then I find I can’t do it. I can’t so much as touch Roman’s phone another second.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I slide it back across the table. As if I never touched it in the first place.

No more than a few seconds go by before the door opens and Roman emerges looking slightly more disgruntled than when he left.

I try to appear natural. But then I remember I don’t know what that means. Should I smile? Pretend I’m more preoccupied with the berry tart we’ve had for dessert? Ask him about what business he tended to? Or would that be too suspicious?

I settle for passing a hand over my curls and glancing up at the sky. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of a view like this.”

“Most feel that way when coming up here, devochka.” He resumes his seat and reaches for the flute of champagne he’d been sipping on.

…he doesn’t suspect a thing.

I sit still, letting that realization settle before I test the waters. “Something important come up?”

“Something always comes up in my world. There is never a dull moment.”

“Maybe that’s why you can’t sleep sometimes. You have too much on your mind.”

Roman grunts in answer, downing the rest of his champagne. “If only you knew. This is a very tenuous time in the family, devochka. Many moving pieces and changing loyalties. The shift happening is… consequential.”

I frown, more guilt whittling away at me. “Does this… um, does this have to do with what your uncle did? How you disfigured him? Because if I’m the reason, then I don’t want?—”

“There is no going back from what I did,” he interjects at once. No remorse can be found in his hoarse tone. Instead, he plucks my flute of champagne and chugs the rest of that too. “I would do it all over again, kitty cat. Except this time I would make sure I finished the job.”

My face flushes with warmth as I’m not even sure how to respond. What do you say to the guy who is proudly proclaiming to you he’d slice the hand of his uncle off for you? Not once but twice? But with regret he didn’t do more damage?

I’m not sure whether to be incredibly flattered or disturbed. It’s almost like a violent bratva boss’s version of‘I like you a lot’.

“But, no, it’s not just you,” he goes on with a deep sigh. “The complications existed before you came into the picture. There is a schism happening.”

“Schism?” I murmur. “That… that sounds serious.”

“That’s because it is. But you already know I can’t tell you more. It’s best if you know nothing.”

“Head on a pike?”

He nods. “Head on a pike. The sovietnik has done worse for less. I’m protecting you.”

More warmth washes over me. I find myself unable to meet his gaze as I look bashfully away, though partially from the guilt under the surface.

Roman really has no idea what I was doing and here he is declaring he’ll protect me…

“Come,” he says. “Time to go inside. It’s getting late.”

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