Page 76 of Lethal Legacy

She nods.

I frown, a little uncomfortable that Dimitry would betray Roman’s secrets so easily. “I’m surprised he opened up about Roman’s past to you.”

“Ah.” Abby winces, her face coloring slightly. “I may have dosed his vodka a little last night. What?” she protests when I put my head in my hands. “I might like bad boys, Luce. But when my best friend is living with one of them, and I’m about to sleep with his friend, I reserve the right to get whatever answers I think necessary.”

I shake my head in my hands. “You’reterrible,Muriel.”

“And you’re welcome. By the way, you pick on me for myTwilightobsession, and then quoteMuriel’s Weddingto me? Who’s tragic now? We both seriously need to stop watching old movies.”

She grins, pulling my hands away from my face. “Anyway, now it’s my turn to tellyousomething classified.” She leans forward and looks around, like I did earlier. “Roman wasn’t born a Stevanovsky, Lucia. He was adopted by Yuri when he was sixteen. Before that, he was an orphan living on the streets of Miami.”

Miami?

I freeze. My blood runs completely cold.

“Roman is fromMiami?” I can barely whisper.

“Yes, but listen up. That isn’t the point of this story.”

Fortunately, Abby doesn’t seem to register my shock. I swallow hard and try to make my heart start beating again.

“They met after Dimitry had just been released from a juvenile detention facility,” she says. “He was only a kid, got booked running drugs for some asshole who let him take the fall. When he got out, there was no family to take him, or at least none who wanted to. He was placed in one of those halfway homes kids stay in until they get fostered. Which, obviously, was never going to happen for Dimitry, not after being in prison. He was young enough, and small enough, to become a target for every abuser in the place. Not that he said that specifically but... well.” She lifts a shoulder. “I know cigarette burn scars when I see them.

“Anyway.

“Apparently Roman used to run favors for the kids in there. You know, find things they wanted, trade it for something else. A knife, a gun, cigarettes, stuff like that. One day he came in with a knife one of the older kids had asked for. Roman found that same older kid holding Dimitry up against the wall, beating the shit out of him.”

“What happened?” I’m hanging on her every word. I can’t imagine hulking, burly Dimitry as a ten-year-old child being beat up any more than I can Roman as a kid running errands.

In fucking Miami.

“Roman used the knife on the same kid who’d paid for it,” Abby says quietly. “Stuck him straight through and left him bleeding out on the floor. Then he grabbed Dimitry, and they ran.”

I stare at her, too stunned to speak.

“After that they became a team. They dropped off the radar and stayed out of the system. Had each other’s backs. From what Dimitry told me, they lived pretty rough, too. Right up until the day Mikhail Stevanovsky came into the restaurant where Roman was working and took a liking to him. According to Dimitry, they hit it off from the start, drinking on Mikhail’s daddy’s yacht like they’d been born brothers. Unfortunately Mikhail was a dumb rich kid back then and flashed his cash at the wrong time and place. He got jumped. Roman got in between Mikhail and the bullet meant for him. And after that... well.” Abby shrugs. “Yuri was forever grateful that Roman saved his son, yada yada, although my guess is that Yuri saw Roman as a useful soldier in his little organization. However it went down, when the Stevanovskys left Miami, Roman and Dimitry went with them, on Yuri’s payroll. Dimitry said Yuri went so far as to formally adopt Roman, which is why he shares the same name as the children.”

I try to digest all of this. “So... wait. What was Roman’s name before Stevanovsky?”

“No idea.” Abby sits back and drinks her wine. “I don’t know what Dimitry’s was, either. I just know they were both abandoned, or orphans or whatever. Dimitry wasn’t exactly specific.” She grimaces. “He might also have beenextremelyout of it at the time. Which he definitely hasn’t forgiven me for.”

“Did you two have a fight, then?” Not that I’m overly surprised, given that it appears Abby got him drunkanddrugged him, by the sounds of it. From what I know of Dimitry, it’s a wonder she’s still walking around alive.

“I needed to know what I was getting into. Now I do. Or at least, I did.” She lifts one shoulder half-heartedly. “I just can’t do any more assholes, Luce,” she says quietly.

“I’m not sure Dimitryisan asshole.” I frown. “Maybe you should hear him out, Abs—”

“Hey.” Abby leans forward and jabs a finger at me. “This is about you, not me, remember? Forget about Dimitry. I know I have.” She pokes her tongue out to make me laugh, but that doesn’t hide the shadow I can see in her eyes. “Anyway.” She drains a good deal of the contents of her glass. “All of this is to say that I think you should let CEO Man in.” She winks at me. “In more ways than one.”

“I’m not so sure.” I turn my water glass on the table, trying to make sense of all she’s said. “I think that maybe I need to just stick to the terms of our... arrangement.”

“Yourarrangement,huh?” She winks at me. “Not that I need every detail,” she says, holding a finger up, “but I do think it’s very mean that you won’t make my day by telling meexactlyhow many positions he ravished you in. Because, girl, I gotta say it.” She leans back and grins at me as she swallows more wine. “You are lookinggood.And I mean taken apart at the seams, thrown up against every available surface kind of good.”

The color rushes back into my face.

“Oh, wow.” Abby’s grin turns into a smirk. “You really do have him bad. Come on. At least throw me some crumbs. Tell me how hot it is.”

I blush again. Harder than before. “It’s . . .”

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